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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (pt 2)

Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)

Summary: Despite learning about Aemond cheating on you, life has never been sweeter. Who knew being so bad could be so good.

Warnings: manipulation, mentions/allusions to pregnancy issues, mentions of self harm

A/N: first, I just have to say thank you for the response to part 1. I truly had no idea it would get the reception it would. Thank you to everyone who followed me as well. I hope I can continue to produce stuff y’all like. I’m hoping to write more hotd stuff, Aemond and non Aemond related. I plan on taking a small hiatus but will be back around thanksgiving weekend. I will be writing on/off during that time but just away for a trip/the holiday. If you have any hotd requests my inbox is always open. I would try to get them out either before my hiatus next week (11/16) or after it ends (11/26). I’m pretty open to writing any character, though I will warn you I’m way more fascinated by the greens so they just come easier to me. Anyway please reblog, like, and follow if you read anything you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽. And some housekeeping: in this Aegon is not r*pist who enjoys watching children fight (the hotd are truly…. not right for the cartoonishly evil way they wrote Aegon). He’s just petty and neglected. Also the timing of this is different from the books bc Aemond meets Alys pre dance.

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A bastard Strong. The irony is not lost on you. Your straight-laced husband fucking someone who is the complete opposite you. Older, no kids, no title, and no duty to uphold. At this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Instead, it makes your blood boil in the most delicious way. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize how you’ve been going through the motions; endlessly sleepwalking, hoping one day Aemond would come around. It woke you up to how much he’s taken advantage of you. He sees your kindness, and aversion to standing out as a weakness. Something he can manipulate and twist like one of his daggers.

The both of you must have forgetten where you came from. A rich, well respected house. The only daughter of smart, albeit conniving, family that knows how to get what they want. Your family didn’t have dragons or absurd ideas of exceptionalism to help you gain power. You’ve learned that inflated egos and prideful indulges can cloud Targaryen judgment. A trait you hope skips your children.

Shame on you for thinking Aemond would be different. Shame on him for the carefully curated facade.

All you do after Larys Strong comes to you the first time is think. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this many options in front of you. Your mother’s words about patience run through your head. Keeping your wits is key. Play your hand too quickly, and you lose all leverage. You have Daella and the babe in your belly to think about. You stood pat in the beginning; Lord Strong simply relaying messages to you. You make sure Alys gets the letter Aemond wrote, and the ones after that. Lord Larys makes sure you get the details of each letter exchanged.

When the days grew lonely, and your body aches because of the babe in your stomach, you think about the letters. The declarations of love and recounts of lust filled meetups simmer in your head, but it’s the mentions of you that makes the anger sizzle and crackle. It makes the guilt you feel wash away.

You question if the rumor is true. That his Alys is a witch. Does her magic allow her to see the way Helaena can? Fuzzy premonitions and dreams that only make sense after they happen; a gift and a curse. A part of you wishes it to be true. You hope while your stomach stirs with untold truths, hers stirs with regret. Maybe the pain that runs through you leaves an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. That she can’t quite put her finger on it, but she feels you.

You wonder if when Aemond prays, he asks the Father to protect him… to protect her. The same way when you pray, you ask the Warrior to help you find the courage to destroy him.

It started with a bruise. A bruise that you don’t even remember how you got. Maybe one of those things you just wake up with. But it’s there, on the inside part of your left arm. It’s starting to fade but an otherwise noticeable bruise that stands out when you wear something with shorter sleeves.

The idea doesn’t come to you till you see the curiosity in Alicent’s eyes when you absentmindedly rub the bruise while asking if she’s seen Aemond. It’s only you two in the walkway; an unusually quiet day at the Red Keep. Her eyes go from it to the far away look in your eyes. It makes her tilt her head in thought.

“No dear, I haven’t,” her eyes go back to the scratch. “Are you doing alright? I know for some, the second babe can be even harder than the first.”

You look down at your arm, and something just clicks.

“I’m fine,” you start, then you make your voice tremble a bit. “I will be fine. I think I’m just tired.”

You give her a strained smile, and she returns one that tells you she doesn’t believe you. You can feel her big brown eyes burning into your back when you walk past her towards your chambers. There could be two thoughts in her head: you did this yourself or someone else did it to you. Either way, her son’s sweet pregnant lady wife is not doing well, and her son is nowhere to be found. Queen Alicent is one of the smartest, if not the smartest, person you know. She sees the change in her son; the change in the dynamic between Aemond and you.

It hits you. It would be too easy to physically harm Aemond. Though the idea of taking the blade that hangs from his hips and putting it to his throat has crossed your mind more times than you’re proud of. It would be too easy to get Larys to kill Alys. You don’t want to give Aemond the satisfaction of having his whore’s blood on your hands.

Where’s the fun in killing when your rage could be channeled into something more… methodical.

Under all that false bravado is the little boy who got picked on for not having a dragon. To break the man means bringing out that little boy. A truly broken man can’t love anyone. Isolation, and self hatred. What a gorgeous combination for your dear husband.

If this is going to work you need to up the ante.

So, you write. If Aemond and Alys can document their love, you can document your pain. You sent your lady in waiting out to get a blank book from one of the maesters. The color dyed cow skin feels smooth under your hands. There needs to be a slow build. Each day you grow closer and closer to shattering. Whoever reads it needs to know Aemond brought you to this place. He is the villain in the story of the poor, innocent wife that did nothing but carry his children and try to love him.

It will read like a diary, but to you it is a creation. A mixture of truth and imagination. A manifestation of pent up feelings. Purging and revenge all rolled up into one. You make sure to mention how terrified you are for your safety, and for you children’s safety. How an angry or disenchanted Aemond is nothing to toy with, especially if he has a bastard witch on his side. How maybe life would be better for Aemond if you just weren’t around.

But this fading bruise isn’t enough. Neither is just having a diary that will be discovered in due time. A deep cut, a dark bruise, half hazardously placed hand prints.. now that could work.

There’s something cathartic about the pain you feel when the dagger slices through your skin. The blood is so red and warm. It smears so smoothly on the page. Blood on your dress, cloth pressed to the wound, and wandering the halls is how Ser Criston finds you. You notice the worried, confused look in his eyes when you stutter out an ‘I don’t know’ when he asks what happened.

As the maester tends to your wound, you notice how Alicent and Criston stand in the corner of Alicent’s quarters. They occasionally glance at you while they whisper to each other. You recognize the familiar crinkle she gets in her forehead when she’s upset. All her children do it too.

“Sweetling, we both think it might be a good idea to give you your own knight of the kingsguard,” she sits next you. “Just to help you and… keep an eye on you during this vulnerable time.”

You blink. Not one mention of her son. But it’s clear to see how Ser Criston is with his queen. Submissive, and utterly devoted. Having someone like that is an asset. So, you smile weakly and nod. The more people who see you in this way, the better.

Ser Quinton Throne was quiet in the beginning. As if he was scared to be in your space. A far cry from the rambunctious knight his brother, Rickard, is. Moving past the initial shyness, he is attentive and even indulges Daella’s fascination with him. Despite you telling her not to, she would always run up to him, tugging on his white cloak to get his attention. She likes having someone around just as much as you.

The distance between Aemond and you had started to carry over into his relationship with Daella. Kids are more intuitive than adults give them credit for. Your throat felt tight when you daughter finally asks where father goes. You lie; it comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would. It makes you think if this is how easy it is for Aemond to lie to you. Or for everyone to not gloss over the clear problems in your life.

You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having a man around, even if it was his job. It was Aemond’s job to do right by you, and he couldn’t do that. A man carrying out his orders with a warm smile was welcomed. The comfort of having someone who sweared his allegiances to you, and only you, and intended on keeping them.

You look from your embroidery loop to see Daella and Ser Quinton sword fighting with wooden swords. It’s an uncharacteristically sunny day. Perfect to get much needed fresh air, and apparently going to battle.

“She’s gotten quite good.”

Like a storm rolling in to ruin a sunny day, your husband’s tone is ever cold and distant. You hate the uncomfortable energy that radiates when he sits next to you.

“Yes, she has,” you stare at the Lysene lilac flower starting to come to life on your loop. “He’s good with her as well.”

You know he won’t like you saying that. He hates Quinton being around, and he especially hates how Daella taken a liking to him. Aemond scoffs and mumbles something under his breath you can’t make out.

“It’s just lovely having real protector around,” you continue to push your luck. “Someone so attentive and… strong.“

You look at with his a sickening sweet smile. He opens his mouth to say something, a complaint or rude comment since those seem to be the only reasons he talks to you, but he is interrupted by Daella yelling out for him.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters to you, getting up.

“Oh you’ll actually be here long enough for that?”

The words slip out your mouth and it makes him turn to glare at you. It reminds you of the gossip you heard about him when you first arrived at court. How cold the king’s second son can be. It should’ve been a warning to you.

Quinton takes it as his cue to leave them be; you know he can sense how much Aemond doesn’t appreciate his presence. You watch as Daella clings to her father. As selfish as it sounds, you patiently wait for the day she too realizes he can’t be depended on.

“My mother used to make me embroider,” your knight’s voice breaks you out of looking on. “Something about being dangerous with a needle is just as great as being dangerous with a sword.”

You take a good look at him. If Aemond is the moon - ethereal, mysterious, and always changing, then Quinton is the sun. Bright, forward facing, and shines brighter with time. His choppy black hair, beard, and warm standing in contrast to your husband’s Targaryen features.

“Sounds like a smart woman,” you smile as he sits next to you.

His eyes linger on your embroidery work before traveling to you right arm. The blade wound was just starting to scab and scar over. His first day on duty was marked by seeing your husband give a long lecture on safety and ‘using your brain’ after Aemond saw your wound. The blade cut wasn’t under pure circumstances, but the look of resentment on your face was real. He saw that. He’s never asked what really happened to your arm.

“How are you my lady,” he whispers. You told him he can address you by your name, but he still insist on the formal names especially around others. “Is the babe giving you trouble.”

Ser Quinton, Helaena, and Alicent are the only people that seem to care about your well being, on top of the babe’s. Aemond concern went making sure the babe was fine to just not asking all together. It’s better that way, you think. You don’t think you’d be able to take fake concern about your little ‘mistake’.

“My bladder is being pushed on, I’m finding clumps of my hair on my pillow, and Maester Oliver told me this baby will weigh more than Daella did,” you reply lightly. “But other than that I’m doing fine.”

This pregnancy had knocked you on your ass. You’re sure the stress and thoughts that consume you don’t help. You know how it feels to come into a fracture family; it makes you feel awful for the babe in your stomach. Your parents tried hard, frankly too hard, to pretend things were good between them. Trying to prove their union was more than a duty for their houses. Till this day, you don’t know what’s worse: knowing they didn’t share that love or the years you watched them fake everything. They had ambitions, and to carry them out there needed to be an appearance of an united front. You took your father’s lead, knowing he always tried to have your best interest. The relationship you have with your mother often ebbing and flowing, especially since your marriage.

When you ravened your mother about your pregnancy troubles, she tells you that this is your responsibility to your husband. Harsh and utterly true. You don’t know if your father ever had indiscretions like Aemond, but you know she’d never plot the way you do. Her calculating nature showing up in different ways. Instead of going after him, she chose to focus on elevating you.

Her and Queen Alicent remind you of each other. Devoted to a fault. A victim who had no other choice but to fall in line.You pray for the both of them. Pray that they find peace with the sacrifices they’ve made. Pray that you never get that far. A shell of yourself. Duty, responsibility, cleaning up others’ messes - what a dull way to live.

“Once he’s out, I’m sure it will all be worth it,” says Ser Quinton, voice not wavering.

He’s trying to be kind, mentioning the working theory in the castle that you’re having a boy. You try to smile at the thought. It’s hard to believe that. Plan or not, you still have to know the truth about the father of your children. There is hole left in your heart about that. Him disrespecting you is one thing, but his words pertaining to your unborn child is another. A sudden spurt of anger rushes over you thinking about everything. It makes you stand abruptly.

“I’m feeling tired,” you watch as Daella pretend to stab her father with her sword. Her giggles ringing out when he reaches to pick her up. The dichotomy of Aemond Targaryen will always fascinate you as much as it terrifies you. How he manages to smile in her face, and lie to yours is quite a sight to watch. “I’ll send Margret out to get Daella.”

Waiting for the perfect moment is not going to work. There no time like the present.

The stiff upper lip of this family is something you noticed the moment you stepped into their presence. It’s seeped into the way they gatekeep a dying Viserys. Alicent is cold and collected in the most beautiful way. A sharp glittering icicle. A pretty rose littered with thorns to keep you admiring from a distance. Even Helaena, who you consider a friend, keeps certain things close to the chest. It’s better to keep the full truth away from her.

But there’s Aegon.

Pitiful, and lonely Prince Aegon. A drunk with a bad attitude. But he’s also the most painfully self-aware person you know. There will be times that you and him exchange looks, as you are in on the joke. That everything is a farce. One day someone will just come up and say it’s all been a bad dream. You think it’s the reason why he frustrates Aemond so much. The teasing on top of him never taking the Targaryen name seriously. Aegon spends his days trying to drink and fuck his way out of thinking about his life. Stuck in a royal cuckold. The first born son of a king with nothing to show for it.

He’s messy, nosy, and so openly brash. He’s your missing chess piece. The perfect pawn.

You leave the diary around places in the castle you know he will be. It’s not until you conveniently leave it in the play room where all Daella, Jaehaera, and Jaehaerys all frequent that you know he’s taken the bait. His lilac eyes seem to follow you whenever you two are in the same room. It takes days for him to confront you; book in hand and wry look on his face.

“Is it true? Everything you wrote?”

You stroke your belly while looking at him, a small smile on your face.

“Does it matter that if it is,” you tilt your head, and his eyes glitter with something you’re not used to seeing.

He mirrors your head tilt with a full blown smile on his face this time. It’s like a bright light after weeks of darkness. A person who also sees through the bullshit that enraptures once you call yourself a Targaryen.

“I greatly underestimated you my good sister,” he whispers. You know he’s thinking about his own words. ‘Pretty but horribly dull’.

“That’s fine,” you motion to the seat next to you. “You can make it up to me.”

Queen Alicent stands facing the fire. Aegon, Helaena, and Ser Quinton off to the side. All of them standing across from where you sit. Aegon gives you a knowing look while Quinton’s eyes are filled with pity and anger. Pity for his princess, anger towards his prince. Helaena looks like she wants to say something.

“I… do not know what to say,” her voice is strained with pain. You know this hurts for her. The image of the perfect son being destroyed. The pedestal she put him on crumbling before him.

You’ve gotten better at crying after Aegon told you tears will be necessary to sell it. It’s an automatic response now. The perfectly timed emotion that breaks like flood gates when Alicent holds out the diary. You say you’re embarrassed. That you never meant for anyone to read it, especially not anyone in the family. Aegon gets to be the concerned good brother. He rubbed your back, while his mother called for Helaena. She needed to know who else knew about this.

“I can say what everyone is thinking,” Aegon pipes up. “He’s a fucking cunt.”

“Aegon.”

His mother turns to glare at him, but it doesn’t deter him.

“Walking around with that self righteousness just to fuck a Strong,” he scoffs. “Calling his child a mistake?”

The words makes Alicent sigh, and squeeze her eyes shut. Helaena continues to play with her fingers with a quizzical look in her eye. If Aegon of all people can judge, the actions must be bad.

“This all my fault,” you decide to take it up a notch. Your breath catches. “I must’ve done something to deserve this.”

“Oh my sweet girl,” Alicent walks over and sits next to you, pulling you into her chest. “None of this is your fault.

“I just don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you continue. That part is true; what the seven hells did you do to deserve this marriage? “This, and the baby, and missing my family. I’m just so unhappy here.”

Alicent strokes your hair. You can feel her heart thumping in her chest. You can tell she’s upset and scared. Scared for what your unhappiness means. You’re a risk now.

“Maybe… my father can come and visit. He hasn’t been here since Daella was born.”

After you got married, your parents left court to tend to your house. They felt their work was done. That the marriage was as far as their political ambitions can go. They visit from time to time to see their granddaughter but normally you’re the one who has to make the trip.

“Of course,” you can see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m sure the Hand would love to pick his brain on some things. Your father has always been so kind and helpful”

Queen Alicent is as predictable as she is smart. Your dad thought your marriage would help him get a seat in the small council. When no offer came, his ego was bruised. If your marriage couldn’t, maybe a desperate Alicent can. The idea of sending a raven about the news makes you have to bite back a smile. An ally in an castle full of strangers.

“I’ll speak to Aemond about this,” she nods to herself. “You don’t need to be worrying about this in your condition.”

The disappointment is clear in smooth voice. Before you can reply with a thank you, Helaena finally piped up.

“A baby’s green eyes spurs brighter skies.”

She mutters it before looks at you curious. You look down at your swollen belly, feeling confused. Neither Aemond or you have green eyes. You try to push the sinking feeling out of your stomach. Even Aegon, who normally ignores Helaena’s cryptic language, has perked up a little.

You take a look at Ser Quinton… his eyes as green as spring grass.

Ok this is my first one doing a tag list, so I’m sorry for those I’ve missed. It only let me do 50??? Idk it’s it’s different on desktop or I’m doing something wrong. Hopefully I can find a more conducive way for this. I also only tagged people who specifically asked: @afro-hispwriter @crispmarshmallow @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @its-sam-allgood @lol-im-done @grey-water-colors @sassysaxsolo @justsumstufff @lilithskywalker @dc-marvel-girl96 @bekky06 @claudie-080102 @cloudroomblog @shelbythequeen @crazylokonugget @solacestyles @instantpeachpeace @katyadenauer @nsainmoonchild @deeeeexx @iwanttohitmyself @rosa-berberifolia @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @princessmiaelicia @bregarc @castellomargot @thesadvampire @chaosmagiq @icarusignite @happinessinthebeing @flavorofsalt @wishfulwithwine @slut-for-eddie-munson @rosaryos @mistalli @inana-mm @winxschester @papery-maniac @nolongereviliwantlove @fultimefangirl @missusnora @skinmittensgoblin @duckworthbean @b00kdiary @chiyausu @alexandra-001 @tachibubu @juneisreading @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @verycollectivecreator

#aemond x oc #hotd imagine #my writing #sorry for the delay.. the tagging kicked my butt 😭#also if there’s typos I’m sorry 💀💀#also sorry for once again leaving it ambiguous… couldn’t help myself #aemond targaryen x reader #black!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #Aemond targaryen

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dejabooooo · 4 months

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The Anti-Pines family is utterly fascinating. We have the blueprint for an entire pseudo canon AU, and remarkably I have seen little input from the fandom in regards to it. I can’t imagine why because there is SO MUCH TO WORK WITH HERE.

Anti-Waddles being as nefarious as Anti-Mabel. “The first pig to ever go to jail for armed robbery.” Like 😭😭 imagine waddles standing upright and holding a tommy gun. Imagine no one in the bank their holding up taking them seriously because they’re an adorable little girl and a chubby pig, and mabel threatening to put a bullet between someone’s eyes like “u better cough up the bacon before this bacon smokes u.” I wanna see what other heinous atrocities the cutest crime duo in the multiverse get up to.

ANTI-SOOS BEING A FORBES BILLIONAIRE HOW AND WHY DID THIS HAPPEN

You’d think if Anti-Ford represents the opposite of Ford that you’d wind up with someone who is exceptionally normal and uninteresting but NOPE. Anti-Ford is easily the weirdest here. FUCKING??? YOUTUBER??? DJ?? A sixty-something year old man with 200 subscribers who posts about his dubstep set lists daily. Utterly baffling.

Anti-Stan and Anti-Dipper are the most understandable in terms of being complete opposites of their counterparts, but all of this makes me wonder how differently their stories would play out because of this. Anti-Mabel was “chased out of her dimension” for being so evil. How does her family feel about this? Are they trying to get her back? Does this bizarre cast embark on a comical and heartfelt journey to try and bring her home? A journey that ends in an emotional reunion? Perhaps one that Mabel fights as she clings to her indifferent, cold ideology while her family begs her to come home. All of them recollecting her horrible crimes with proportionately little exasperation and an abundance of fondness. Stan recounting when she stole all the money from a fundraiser he’d held so she could instead invest the funds into remodeling their entire house to have a monochrome minimalist decor. Ford reminiscing about the time she tried to use his channel to funnel money into a crypto/nft scheme. Dipper having countless stories. like how happy she’d make him when he’d get to skip school thanks to her (because she burned down the school, multiple times). About how she’d sabotaged pretty much all of his relationships, but it was a good thing in the end because it allowed him to realize that who he always really loved was that dorky socially awkward corduroy girl he hadn’t noticed at first. All of this retrospection from her family chipping away at her hardened heart and- phew, I'm getting carried away, but the possibilities, man! These characters could be so much more than a one time joke.

There is also the matter of Anti-Bill. “He is very boring.” Shut up??? Speak for urself, schmebulock, he sounds delightful. This is another character I believe you could expand in many interesting ways. I mean think about it, a being possessing the same caliber of bill’s omniscience and using it for good sounds amazing. Knowing all the beauty in all the universes and going out of his way to share it with weary minds through their dreams. Nullifying nightmares. What if he were a healing antidote to the mind, a medicine to bill’s mind unraveling madness? What if they knew each other?

Do you see my (delusional) vision here guys?

#gravity falls #gf #mabel pines #waddles #soos ramirez #stanford pines #dipper pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines #bill cipher

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solisaureus · 8 months

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Everything I Hate About Rick Riordan's Interpretation of the Hunters of Artemis

I believe that Rick Riordan has good intentions and that he has done a lot to promote inclusivity in YA fantasy, both at a fictional representation level and at a level of authorial diversity. However, he has fumbled the ball numerous times in his writing, and my biggest complaint against him is his handling of the Hunters of Artemis. So I wrote an essay on everything I hate about it.

Part I: Mythological context

Artemis is the ancient Greek goddess of the hunt, nature, unwed maidens, animals, archery, childbirth, and other domains. She is known for keeping a company of nymphs and inhabiting the wilderness with them, giving rise to Riordan’s concept of the Hunters of Artemis.

Artemis is also famous for being a virgin goddess, vowing never to marry. The concepts of virginity and marriage in ancient times and the understanding we have of them today are quite different. Here is an excerpt describing Artemis (and Athena’s) status as virgin goddesses from Goddesses, Whores, Wives, and Slaves: Women in Classical Antiquity by Sarah Pomeroy:

“The Artemis of classical Greece probably evolved from the concept of a primitive mother goddess, and both she and her sister Athena were considered virgins because they had never submitted to a monogamous marriage. Rather, as befits mother goddesses, they had enjoyed many consorts. Their failure to marry, however, was misinterpreted as virginity by succeeding generations of men who connected loss of virginity only with conventional marriage. Either way, as mother goddess or as virgin, Artemis retains control over herself; her lack of permanent connection to a male figure in a monogamous relationship is the keystone of her independence.”

Note how this differs from modern Western concepts of marriage and virginity. Marriage, for a woman of antiquity, means a monogamous, submissive union with a man. A virgin, in the context of Artemis and her Hunters, is an unmarried, independent woman, not a woman who does not desire sex or romantic love. It is likely that Riordan, as a classics scholar, knows this.

Artemis was known to keep companions in the myths, both men and women. Orion is the most famous male companion of Artemis, and in some iterations of the myth he is a lover of Artemis. Another notable figure is the nymph Callisto, who was exiled from the Hunters after Zeus raped and impregnated her in Hesiod’s Astronomia. (According to Hyginus’s recounting of this story, Zeus seduced Callisto by disguising himself as Artemis, insinuating that Callisto and Artemis had been lovers). I assume this is where Riordan got the idea that becoming “smitten with boys” (The Titan’s Curse, p. 38) gets you kicked out of the Hunters.

Another known devotee to Artemis was Hippolytus. In the play Hippolytus by Euripides, the eponymous character (the son of Theseus with the Amazon Hippolyta), was enamored with the hunt and had no desire for marriage, worshipping Artemis as his patron. His disinterest in romance offended Aphrodite, and she cursed Theseus’s wife Phaedra to fall in love with Hippolytus. The rest of the play does not end well for either of them, but the important thing is that ancient Greek plays did acknowledge unmarried male devotees of Artemis. This, combined with the myth of Orion, confounds Riordan’s choice to interpret the Hunters as exclusively female.

Part II: Feminist separatism

So, given the existence of Orion and Hippolytus, where does the anti-men thing come from? One possible explanation is the story of Actaeon, who spied on Artemis while she was bathing, and was harshly punished for his indecency when Artemis transformed him into a deer and set his hunting dogs on him. But mythologically, the Hunters were not exclusive to women, and in a modern context, I think Riordan’s interpretation of them as such is inappropriate and irresponsible.

In the 1970s, there was a movement to form communities of exclusively lesbians who seek to escape patriarchal society by forming insular colonies, known as lesbian separatism. On a surface level, it might seem empowering — many lesbians and other women seek to escape the male gaze and heteronormative expectations, and making their own exclusive all-female social communities may seem like a utopian escape. But this movement was notoriously transphobic, with these lesbian separatist communities explicitly rejecting transgender women and relying on gender bioessentialism to determine who was “really” a woman or a lesbian. It was gatekeeping in its most radical form (Separatism by Andrew Matzner).

So for Riordan’s Hunters to model feminist separatism (except with celibate women instead of lesbians) is a similar TERF trap. It is never clarified in canon whether the female requirement for membership includes either closeted or out transgender women, or if the Hunters expel transgender men who come out after joining the Hunters. Given that the Hunters — a community of people who seek to reject conventional patriarchal society — would likely appeal to queer people of all ages, genders, and sexual identities, why is it exclusive to adolescent celibate girls?

Part III: Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

In The Dark Prophecy, Riordan supplements the lore of his Hunters with a bombshell: female Hunters who fall in love with each other are expelled for breaking their oath of virginity. Emmie, who is Hemithea of ancient myth and had been a part of the Hunters for millennia, was excommunicated with her lover Jo, and they form a new life together in Indianapolis. This is described as a voluntary, heartwarming departure and a show of the two women’s commitment to each other.

The positive spin that Riordan puts on this story is shocking, considering the fact of the matter is that these characters were forced to choose between their family and their queer love. Losing one’s family, especially one that had been Emmie’s whole life for literal ages, as a result of coming out is a homophobic tragedy any way you look at it. How are we supposed to think positively of Artemis or the Hunters after seeing them cast out their own because of their lesbian relationship? Especially when LGBTQ homelessness as a result of this exact trauma is such a prominent problem?

Hell, in The Sun and the Star, Nico di Angelo expresses that his worst fear in coming out as gay was to be abandoned by his friends or ostracized by his community (p. 216, 219). Yet this is exactly what happened to Emmie and Jo when they came out in the Hunters. The fact that this outcome is acknowledged as terrifying and traumatic in The Sun and the Star makes it baffling that it’s framed as congenial and unavoidable in another Riordan book.

The fact that the Hunters are a militant force makes the expulsion of lesbians reminiscent of another notable LGBTQ rights issue: Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT). This American legislation, which was in effect from 1994 to 2011, prohibited openly gay, bisexual, or lesbian individuals from serving in the armed forces. It was acceptable to be closeted while serving, but disclosing one’s identity as lesbian, gay, or bisexual resulted in being discharged. The repeal of DADT in 2011 was seen as a major victory for LGBTQ rights in America…which makes it concerning that Riordan would implement the same policy for his fictional militia in a book that was published in 2017. And then portray it as positive and empowering.

Riordan doubling down on the “no romance allowed” aspect of his iteration of the Hunters by excluding lesbians from membership is a bizarre commitment to his misconstrued translation of the ancient Greek concept of virginity. Remember that Artemis’s vow of virginity was a commitment to independence and a rejection of marital submission to a man in a patriarchal society, not a condemnation of romance and sexuality. By this definition, virgins include lesbians, and it is ridiculous to construe two women’s romantic commitment to each other as violating the oath of virginity. Riordan’s choice to vilify lesbians in the Hunters was his choice, not an appropriate application of mythology. Considering that Artemis has been used as a relatable cultural icon for modern lesbians, this seems especially insidious.

Part IV: Asexual misrepresentation

Asexuality is a spectrum of queer identities which describe those that experience little to no sexual attraction to other people of any gender. Aromanticism is a related spectrum of queer identities entailing little to no romantic attraction or interest in other people of any gender. There is a very broad range of asexual and aromantic experiences, including those that overlap with other queer experiences, including lesbianism. Asexuality is not the same thing celibacy and aromanticism is not the same thing as being single. Rick Riordan does not seem to grasp this, construing his anti-romance portrayal of the Hunters as a haven for aromantic and/or asexual girls such as Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano.

While a community like the Hunters, with its emphasis on rejecting patriarchal, heteronormative standards, would certainly appeal to many aromantic and/or asexual individuals (as well as most other queer people), there are several issues with conflating the lifestyle of Riordan’s Hunters with asexuality/aromanticism.

First, the Hunters in this setting are exclusively young girls, with the oldest being Thalia Grace, who is 15. Feeding into the stereotype that asexual/aromantic people are immature and childish is hardly positive representation. Second, requisite celibacy is not the same thing as natural asexuality. In fact, I find the whole enforced celibacy, anti-romance thing weirdly Catholic and repressive for a group of people devoted to a Pagan goddess of nature and unconventional independence.

I will iterate it again, this is a reductive, ill-fitting application of the ancient concept of virginity that is associated with Artemis. It is valid for modern asexuals and aromantics to admire and relate to the mythology of Artemis, but Riordan’s misapplication of this association does a disservice to asexuals, aromantics, and queer community as a whole. Riordan’s Hunters feed the harmful, incorrect stereotype that asexuals and aromantics look down on all forms of romantic/sexual love (including queer love) and see themselves as superior to the culture of love and sex. This is not positive aromantic/asexual representation.

Part V: Alternative interpretations

With all of this said, the Hunters serve an important narrative role in Riordan’s stories and a lot of potential as an alternative life path for demigods. Abolishing the Hunters would do the story and its setting a disservice; but I believe they should’ve been written very differently.

The Hunters should maintain their core purpose of an uprooted existence, rejecting conventional society to connect with nature. They should provide community for those who are not served by the heteronormative, cisnormative patriarchy. This would include people of all ages, genders, and romantic/sexual identities. There should be an emphasis on solidarity among marginalized sexual and gender identities instead of overt hostility and gatekeeping.

Members of the Hunters should be discharged only when they decide to rejoin mainstream society or settle down with a lifestyle that is incompatible with the aforementioned purpose of the Hunters. I believe this structure would be far more empowering and liberating than what Riordan has envisioned.

#robin text #rick riordan #rrverse #hunters of artemis #artemis #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

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seaofwine · 6 months

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What do you like about the Odyssey? Besides some entertaining episodes (e.g. Circe or Calypso), I've never really been able to get into the Odyssey as a whole (I find the first 5 books especially dull). The Iliad really speaks to me more.

It's hard to really pinpoint what I like most about it but I love to talk about the Odyssey so I hope you like long posts hahaha

The first five books act as the exposition. When the Iliad ends, there's a general understanding that most of the surviving characters made it home. Menelaus and Helen have reunited, the catalyst for the Trojan War has been resolved. Agamemnon traversed the sea and made it back, and although he was killed by his wife Clytemnestra, there is no question about where he is; unlike Odysseus.

Telemachus has spent his entire youth without a father. When he finally decides to set out from Ithaca to find any leads on where Odysseus is, he is confronted with the fact that most everyone else has been accounted for. He sees Menelaus and Helen, the order of their kingdom, the comfort they have in each other and the bonds they have restored. Telemachus has known nothing but uncertainty, while his mother is forced to weave lies and deceptions to keep the suitors that plague their home at bay. The first five books really show how important one man can be when he is utterly lost, and what it would mean for everyone who loves him should he be found. These books also show the close interest that Athena, as patron of Odysseus, takes in his family. She steps into the chaos of Ithaca and gives Telemachus the inspiration to embark on his own journey, chasing the ghost of his still-living father.

When we finally reach Odysseus, he is not the same man that those who knew him in Troy described. They are the closest Telemachus can come to knowing what came of his father, but even they are separated by nearly a decade and the breadth of the sea. Penelope hasn't laid eyes on her husband in twenty years, there is no overestimating what that can do to a person's memory. Odysseus's first action is to cry. When finally Calypso is forced to allow Odysseus to leave, by order of Hermes, he makes his own raft and leaves at the first possible moment. He is fighting against the will of Poseidon, against the wrath he incurred, all alone. He has lost every single one of his men, every single person who could ever vouch for his identity, in a world where no one could recognize him, is gone. Despite this, he is still fighting to get back to Ithaca.

Odysseus is so utterly human in the text. When he is hosted by Alcinous, Odysseus asks the singer there to recount the story of the Trojan Horse. It's like landing at the doorstep of a stranger who graciously allows you to stay and immediately asking his DJ to play *your own* greatest hits - which in turn only upsets him. This also sets up the dramatic reveal of his identity (I like to imagine him looking around like, you guys remember this one? Yeah that's Me, I pinkie promise. Please give me 4000 drachmae and your best oarsmen (: ).

He recounts the story of how he got so utterly lost on the way back and one thing the Odyssey will tell you, to your face over and over again, is that Odysseus is a big time liar. But for some reason, his tale is so compelling it's hard to remind yourself of that when hearing it for the first time. Some points are so beyond baffling (like striking Polyphemus in the singular eye the poor sod has, and then once to the safety of his boat (which is on open water, the domain of said cyclops's father) loudly announcing his full gods-given name and mailing address, just in case anyone missed who it was) that it's like, yeah that was probably exactly what he did. This is the section of the story where we see Odysseus as he sees himself. This is his own reflection of the actions he made and the troubles that befell him because of it.

Odysseus is such a complex character that one of the epithets he is given is "polytropos", the many-faced or many-sided. Odysseus and his relationship to his own identity, which he can shed and don at any point that's convenient for him, is one of the main reasons I am obsessed with his story. This, and the exploration in an ancient text about what a close relationship with a deity, is something I am constantly thinking about.

#odyssey #ask #odysseus #i just really love him ok? ok

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kimpossibly · 1 year

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THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

#daisy jones and the six #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #daisy jones & the six fanfiction #eddie loving #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

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Herbie (M) ~Bang Chan | 02

Pairing: Mechanic!Chan x F.Reader Themes: Smut | Fluff | Friends to Lovers (kind of) Word Count: ~5k | AO3 Synopsis: As it turned out, your hot mechanic friend also had a crush on you. After rocking your world in his repair shop’s office, you wake up the next day on his bed in his clothes, ready to spend a lazy morning together. [This is a second and final part to Herbie]. Warnings: curvy/chubby reader · pet names · this is like super domestic · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Author’s Note: does it count as friends to lovers if they already fucked and were planning to go on a date???? i honestly don’t know lol. but anyway, i felt like writing the morning after the events of Herbie, so here we are ! i think i’ve gotten all the wiggles out with this one, so for now i hope this remains as a two shot~

Smut Warnings: oral [F.Rec] · nipple play · protected penetration (piv) · honestly there’s hardly anything to warn about this is all so soft

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

You could feel movement all around, you could hear movement all around. The gentle rustle of fabric, soft tapping sounds on the tiles, the flow of water… You weren’t really sure if you were fully awake and actually noticing these things, or if you were still dreaming. All you knew for sure was that the pillow under your head, the one between your thighs, and the duvet over your frame were incredibly soft and comfortable.

After a long while, you felt movement again, and then you felt warmth.

The gentle feeling of plush lips on your forehead brought your senses back to the land of the living, and, in a second, you remembered. Herbie had died on you, Chris had saved you once again, he’d made you feel loved and wanted and cared for in just a few hours, he’d brought you to his place and talked with you until you both were too tired to keep your eyes open, he’d given you one of his t-shirts to wear to bed, and right now, he’d just kissed your forehead and he was pulling away.

“Where you going…?” You mumbled, blindly reaching for him.

Chris chuckled, leaning in and pressing a kiss on your cheek. “I have to walk Wolfgang. I’ll be back in no time, you continue sleeping. Hm?”

A pout made its way onto your lips, but you hummed in agreement anyway, because there was no way you’d stop him from taking Wolfgang on a walk. Wolfgang deserved all the walks.

With one more kiss to your forehead and a ‘be right back, beautiful’, Chris left the room, and after a few minutes you heard the front door open and close behind him. You changed positions, laying on your other side–taking special care to move the pillow between your legs with you, because there was nothing more comfortable when you had big thighs than having a pillow between your legs when you laid on your side.

As you laid there, only half awake, your brain started recounting the events of the night. You’d been at Chris’ place a couple of times throughout the past handful of months, but never this late, and never this long. You’d always been comfortable with him, but yesterday, sitting face to face on his sofa, with Wolfgang napping on the floor right by your feet was just something else.

It was nice to be able to talk so freely with him, even more than you were already doing before. The topics ranged from what you were going to do with Herbie, to commenting on whichever show you both had been watching these days, and even to heartfelt confessions.

‘Always knew I was attracted to you, but I’m gonna be fully honest, the moment you kept talking to me after our two hour video call where all I did was ramble about Pokémon, I knew there was no going back for me’, Chris had told you, and you had simply laughed, telling him how oddly specific that was, to which he also laughed and offered a ‘you’re laughing, but I’ve seriously had people ghost me after something like that. Some just don’t get it!’

You clearly fell asleep again, because the next thing you registered was Chris slinging an arm over your waist and pulling you back to his chest. You vaguely registered the ‘welcome back, baby’ that came out of your mouth, just like you vaguely registered Chris’ lips on your neck, pressing soft kisses on your skin while he mumbled a ‘thank you, pretty’.

You laid there in Chris’ arms for a while, until he started to snore and you started to feel like you really needed to go to the bathroom. Chris was holding on tight to you, so you had a bit of difficulty pulling yourself away from his embrace. He seemed to barely even register it, his snoring remained steady as you walked past a sleeping Wolfgang, out of the room, and into the bathroom.

After relieving yourself and splashing a bit of water on your face, you cringed a bit at the fact that you couldn’t apply your moisturiser, but as you looked at the brand new toothbrush Chris had given you last night, sitting right next to his in a cup on the sink, you figured it was a small price to pay for being here. You looked at yourself in the mirror, admittedly smiling a bit like a fool as you remembered the events of the night again. Sigh, I’m down bad, bad, huh? was all you could think while a small giggle passed your lips.

With a fresh face, an empty bladder, and a minty mouth, you finally made your way back to Chris’ room, yawning and stretching a bit before you finally tucked yourself back under the covers to find a pouty Chris looking at you with only one eye open. You just smiled at him and gave him a quick peck before you snuggled closer, tucking your head under his chin.

Chris hummed, bringing an arm under your neck to curl around your shoulders, just as he took a hold of your thigh to hoist it over his hip and push a leg between yours, essentially tangling your limbs together so you could be as close as possible. Even if it was just a simple gesture, your heart was racing, feeling just so incredibly full.

“Would it scare you off if I told you I like waking up with you on my bed?” Chris mumbled against your hair, leisurely dragging his hand up and down your bare thigh as he spoke.

“It takes a lot to scare me off”, you chuckled, giving in to the urge of attaching your lips to his collarbone. How could you not kiss him there when he was shirtless and his skin looked just so incredibly kissable? And even more so when the gentle morning light filtering through the drapes was enough for you to see his skin flush with each peck of your lips.

After a few moments of you just kissing Chris’ collarbones, his chest, his neck, you felt the warmth of his hand leave your thigh, only to appear again on your chin. He tilted your head up a bit to get you to look at him. There was such a sincere smile on his lips, you just weren’t sure where to focus, on that smile, on his brown eyes, or on the barely perceptible freckles under them. You just couldn’t help the heat that spread over your face at the sight.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful, you know?” Chris leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And cute”, another one on your cheek bone. “Pretty”, and another on the tip of your nose.

Heat pooled in the pit of your stomach, just with his words and his gentle kisses you could feel minute shivers running up and down your spine and the fine hairs on your arms stand on end. Before you could even say anything, Chris was kissing you, slowly, tenderly savouring you. He returned his hand to your thigh, squeezing all the way up, holding you tight against him as he finally reached your bum to sneak his fingers under your underwear so he could grab a proper handful, eliciting the tiniest moan to fly past your lips and get lost in his mouth.

You brought your hands to his head to card your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp as you went, and, with a groan, Chris moved, gently pushing you onto your back as he laid on top of you, not stopping the movements of his lips against yours for a second.

With a hand still tangled in his hair, barely pulling the strands, and the other roaming his back, you just let yourself enjoy the feel of him pressed against you. His warm skin under your hands, his weight on you, his lips on you, there was honestly nothing else on your mind other than Chris and his warmth.

Finally detaching himself from your mouth, Chris trailed kisses all the way to your neck, where he settled to suck and nibble on your skin, making you squirm and whine softly. One of his fingers twisted on the side of your underwear as he continued his motions on your neck, seemingly in no hurry to take the garment off at all, almost like he was doing it just to keep his fingers busy, or even to tease you a bit–if that were the case, it was certainly working.

Trailing all the way back up your throat, his mouth found yours again, and he kissed you deeply, pushing his tongue inside your mouth as soon as you parted your lips for him. He was wearing only his boxers, so you could feel him already hard against you. That, coupled with his kisses, with his hold on you, had wetness pooling at your core, all combined had lewd noises escaping your mouth.

When Chris finally untwisted his fingers from your underwear, he propped himself on one elbow for leverage, moving his hand up from where it’d been pressed against your hip, slowly dragging it all the way up to your ribs, bringing the hem of the tee you were wearing with it, encouraging goosebumps to raise on your skin with the soft movement.

“Mind if I take this off?” Chris mumbled against your lips, pressing a brief kiss on your lips for good measure.

You just shook your head, giving him the go-ahead. If he didn’t get you naked now you were sure you’d combust, you never thought you’d ever needed anyone in your life quite like you were needing Chris at this very moment.

Chris shuffled a bit, moving to kneel between your legs just as he took a hold of the hem of your t-shirt, carefully pulling it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your knickers.

“Fuck…” You could see his eyes jump all over you, taking in the sight of your bare chest, and it occurred to you then that he hadn’t seen your full naked body last night. He might’ve ravished your cunt like a starved man, but that didn’t seem to stop him from blushing at the sight of your bare breasts. “Look at these…”

Cupping your tits, Chris squeezed them gently, kneaded them, just overall felt them in his hands, warming you up, and you couldn’t help but flush.

“Thought you were an ass guy”.

Chris’ eyes snapped back up to yours, and he laughed, but the movement of his hands didn’t stop. “Baby, I’m an everything guy. Fuck, wish I had more hands. Wanna touch you everywhere”.

His comment made you laugh, too, but the sound quickly caught in your throat as soon as his thumbs dragged over your nipples.

He did it again, with a bit more pressure this time. The action had heat creeping on your face, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip to contain the obscene sounds that were threatening to come out of your mouth. Chris, on the other hand, looked absolutely delighted.

“You’re sensitive here, too, huh?” He had a smirk plastered on his face, and whichever thought that was crossing your mind completely flew out the window the second he started to roll your nipples between his fingers, applying the tiniest bit of pressure, just enough to make you close your eyes and your thighs twitch. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous. Let me hear those pretty noises I know you can make. Hm?”

You didn’t think you could flush any further, but here you were, feeling heat everywhere. On your face, your neck, between your legs… And the feeling seemed to intensify the further he worked your chest, the further you let quiet noises slip out of your lips as you barely held his gaze.

“Chris?”

“Hm?”

“Want… Want your mouth”.

As soon as you said the words, Chris dived, gently sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You simply moaned, threading your fingers through his hair once again to further push him against your chest. With his mouth on one nipple and his fingers on the other, his motions had sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, shooting straight to your now aching core.

Chris focused on your chest for a while, shifting his mouth from one nipple to the other occasionally to provide equal attention, mumbling mindless words of praise in between, ‘gorgeous tits… So soft here, huh…? Wanna kiss you all over…’ effectively driving you up the wall. You yourself could hear the desperation in your voice whenever you moaned or whined or whimpered under his tongue, and it was right when you were close to begging for more that he finally detached his mouth from your chest entirely, swearing under his breath.

In one swift movement he’d yanked your underwear off, pushed your legs apart, and found his way between your thighs, attaching his mouth to your clit and sucking on it. The movement was so sudden you just couldn’t contain your sounds of delight, what started as a moan ended as an incredulous laugh that Chris matched immediately, the rumble of his laugh enhancing the tingles of pleasure that extended to all your limbs. He removed his mouth from your heat only long enough to shift his weight so he could lay comfortably on his stomach, take a hold of the back of your thighs, and push them towards your chest to get better access to your centre.

As soon as his mouth resumed its motions between your legs you sighed, melting completely under the gentle nudges of his tongue.

After bringing one of your thighs over his shoulder, Chris blindly reached for your hand. As soon as he found his target, he took a hold of your hand and brought it to his head, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly as you dragged your fingertips over his scalp.

“So you… Like it when I play with your hair?”

Chris just hummed in response, with a hint of a smile in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, sucking a tad bit harder on your clit to make his point. You just laughed, not because it was particularly funny, but because it was the only way your body knew how to express the feelings coursing through you right now. And when you tugged on his hair, he just buried himself deeper, closing his eyes and humming once again, a sound of unadulterated satisfaction that had fire burning deep inside of you.

He was moving just so leisurely, like he had all the time in the world to be just here, right between your legs, a complete contrast to how borderline desperate he’d been last night. Every time he opened his eyes and looked at you, you could barely even hold his gaze, the slow but precise licks and sucks and kisses had your head swimming, had you quietly moaning and whimpering as you got lost in the stars twinkling in his eyes.

Much like yesterday, he looked at you with want, need, hunger, but in a different way. A softer, gentler way that somehow also had your toes curling, had you throwing your head back in glee, and had your heart growing ten sizes in your chest.

Detaching his lips from you briefly, Chris got a finger in his mouth, thoroughly coating it in his saliva to then bring it to your entrance, pushing it in to lightly massage your sweet spot as the hand he had on the thigh over his shoulder kept squeezing your flesh.

You could feel your legs start to tremble as he added more fingers, as he increased his speed, stuffing you full of three of his digits while his hand moved up your thigh to rest on your lower belly, kneading and gripping the soft skin in tandem with his mouth on your clit and his fingers in your cunt, and you honestly were starting to think you’d died and gone to heaven.

You genuinely weren’t sure how long Chris spent working you up, touching you, kissing you, fucking you open with his fingers, kneading your soft flesh with his hand. It could’ve been seconds, minutes, or even hours, but neither of you seemed to mind or care at all; all you cared about was the feel of him between your legs, the smell of his shampoo on the pillow below your head, his hair between your fingers, and how incredibly close he was getting you to your impending release.

Nothing had ever tasted sweeter than Chris’ name on your tongue once he finally pushed you over the edge, nothing had ever felt as satisfying as the way he softly sucked and licked at your clit to drag the very last wave of pleasure he could out of you. Your body slumped when you started to come down from your high, and your legs twitched a bit when he placed one final kiss on your clit and removed his fingers from your still sensitive walls.

Chris kissed his way up your body, lightly sucking on your skin as he went until his mouth found yours, leaving you breathless with the passion of his kiss and the slow grind of his hips against your core, surely getting his underwear drenched in your juices as he continuously dragged the outline of his erection over your folds. He didn’t seem to mind or care at all, in fact, he seemed to be just completely lost in the feel of you under him, in the feel of your tongue against his own, and the feel of your fingers gently running down his back.

“Baby…” You mumbled, resting one of your hands on his shoulder and the other on his round bottom. “Baby, need to breathe”.

Chris chuckled, pulling his mouth from yours to repeatedly kiss your cheeks, finally stopping the movement of his hips between your legs, but keeping himself flush to your body. “Sorry”.

“No, you’re not”, you laughed, still slightly breathless, but you hugged him tight anyway.

“No, I’m not”, Chris gave you a cheeky smile, looking absolutely pleased with himself, and, honestly, while you still felt pleasure coursing through your body from your orgasm, you just couldn’t find it in you to pretend to be mad at him.

Pulling himself off of you fully to give you a breather, Chris got rid of his underwear, and you propped yourself on your elbows to just look at him in all his glory, broad, strong, naked…

“You’re unfairly handsome, you now?”

Chris giggled, a pink tint coloured his cheeks, and he shook his head side to side while he found his way between your legs once again, kneeling on the bed, sitting back on his heels and looking down at you with an incredibly fascinating mix of endearment and lust swimming in his eyes. Scooting as close to you as he could, he placed a hand on your thigh just as he brought the other close to his mouth to spit on it. After spreading his saliva all over his shaft, he finally closed his fist around his length to leisurely stroke himself.

“I wholeheartedly believe you’re the pretty one in this relationship”.

A teasing smile spread on your face, and you quirked a brow at him, ignoring any possible self-deprecating comment your brain immediately came up with at that moment, choosing instead to focus on holding back the laugh that was threatening to come out of your mouth. “Oh? So we’re in a relationship?”

“If you want to be”, Chris tightened his hold on your thigh, but kept the movement of the hand working his cock the same slow, steady pace.

“Do you?”

“I do”, Chris answered in a heartbeat, giving you a genuine smile, an adorable smile that made his eyes disappear and his dimples show on his cheeks, and you were sure your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

You replied confidently anyway, because if there was one thing that Chris made you feel was confident, and fearless. “I do, too”.

Chris was about to say something, but whatever it was died on his tongue, replaced with a groan when Wolfgang suddenly jumped on the bed and found his way towards you, sniffing you and attempting to lick your cheeks, making you laugh while you tried to pull away.

Chris let go of his cock immediately, taking a hold of Wolfgang’s collar to keep him from jumping on you and crushing you. “Dude, this is quite possibly the worst moment for you to show affection. Go away”.

Wolfgang, however, took this as a sign to start playing, shifting his attention from you to Chris in a heartbeat and trying to jump on his shoulders, hitting your leg with his wagging tail in the process. “Dude!”

You honestly couldn’t stop laughing.

“Come here, you giant twit”, Chris scooped Wolfgang into his arms. With admittedly a bit of difficulty since his dog kept trying to play while Chris held him, he got out of bed and left the bedroom entirely. You could hear Wolfgang’s tail hitting the walls as they went, just like you could hear Chris lecturing him. ‘You can’t do this to me. You gotta understand the act of making puppies is very, very sacred. Think of the bro code, dude. You can’t just interrupt and jump on my girl like that!’

Your laughs turned to soft chuckles, and you reached for your eyes to wipe the tears that had collected at the corners. Shuffling could be heard in the living room, and then you heard running water.

After a moment, Chris came back into the room, huffing in annoyance, and ruffling his hair. The sight of his length half hard and bobbing between his legs with every step was oddly amusing to you.

“What’d you do?” You asked as soon as Chris was back into your arms and nestled between your legs so he could kiss you.

“Gave him a scolding and a Kong filled with treats to entertain himself”, he mumbled between kisses, propping himself on an elbow.

The cold feeling of his still slightly moist hand dragging down your side made you shiver.

“Don’t scold Wolfgang. He’s a good boy, he just wants to play”, you chuckled, speaking between kisses.

“What about me?” Chris pulled himself away from your hold, reaching for his nightstand. “I wanna play, too, but I can’t if he’s here”.

“Got performance anxiety?” You watched Chris rummage the first drawer of his nightstand, where he clearly didn’t find what he was looking for.

Chris chuckled, opening the second drawer and rummaging the contents there, too. “Why? Wanna get fucked with an audience? Can’t give you that, babe. I want you all to myself”.

He finally found what he was looking for, a condom, which he immediately opened and rolled over his once again fully hard length. “Besides, doesn’t it unsettle you a bit to have Wolfgang specifically watch us have sex?”

“Only if he tries to get involved”, you chuckled.

“Freaky, huh?”

You licked your lips when Chris got comfortable between your legs again and started to drag the head of his cock up and down your slit. “Not even close to being the weirdest thing about me”.

“True”, he chuckled. “The way you wash the dishes both fascinates me and puzzles me to this day”.

He just kept dragging the tip of his length all over your cunt, spreading your juices around, stopping at your entrance sometimes but not going in. He was very obviously teasing you, and you couldn’t help but whine. “Babe…”

“What?” He grinned at you, brushing your clit with his tip briefly, only to dip back down to tease your entrance.

“Christopher”, a pout made its way onto your lips, just as you rolled your hips to try and get him to go in. Sadly, it didn’t work. If anything, it only made Chris giggle.

“God, you’re just so cute”, he was giggling still, and you would’ve probably said something about it, had he not eased himself into your heat with one swift movement, filling you up fully, making you gasp.

Chris leaned into you, propping himself on his elbows to plant a kiss on your lips. You simply hugged him close, caressing his lower back, softly tracing the dimples there with one of your fingers just as your free hand made its way to his bum again, squeezing once he started to move, ever so slowly.

“So, so cute”, Chris mumbled against your lips, and you just hummed in response.

Parting from your lips, he started a trail of kisses from your cheek to your neck, mumbling between each press of his lips against your skin. “So soft, too…”

He dragged his hand up and down your thigh, squeezing sporadically, keeping that slow pace of his hips. “Tight…”

You couldn’t help but whine, your brain once again turning to putty with every drag of his cock against your walls, with every tight squeeze to your soft flesh, with every love bite he left on your skin… Bringing your other hand to his buttock, you grabbed a handful in each hand, revelling in the way Chris groaned against your neck and how his pace picked up the tiniest bit.

A part of you–a very needy, greedy part of you–wanted to beg him to go faster, to go harder, but another part of you simply wanted to enjoy his slow and precise movements, especially when Chris seemed to be enjoying it all just like this.

As you dragged the tip of one of your fingers up his spine, he swore under his breath and kissed you, so deeply you weren’t sure what had you involuntarily clenching around him, if it was the feeling of his tongue against yours, or his cock stretching you open and hitting the utmost sensitive areas within your walls.

Detaching himself from your mouth, Chris pressed his forehead against yours, the lack of barrier letting your soft moans freely spill from your lips.

One of his hands found yours, linking your fingers together, holding it tight and pressing it to the mattress as you mindlessly whispered sweet nothings to him. How good he felt inside of you, how well he was fucking you open, how handsome he was… Anything and everything that came to your hazy mind, all while Chris just groaned lowly, sounding just so incredibly lost in the feeling of you and your body it almost made you lightheaded.

Burying his cock as deep as he could, he stilled, catching your mouth in a heated kiss when you buried your hand in his hair and tugged.

“Sit on me”, Chris mumbled against your mouth, pressing a brief kiss on your lips right after for good measure.

You simply nodded in response. The sudden lack of his body heat, of his length inside of you, of his weight on you, almost gave you whiplash, but you moved regardless, and as soon as Chris was on his back, you straddled him, keeping yourself lifted enough to align his cock with your entrance.

You couldn’t help but moan once he was back within your warmth, just like Chris didn’t seem to be able to hold back his groan of satisfaction when he was snugly buried to the hilt. Bringing his hands to your hips, he squeezed hard on your soft flesh, swearing under his breath as he took in the sight of you fully sitting on his lap.

“Fuck, look at you–” He all but choked on his words as soon as you started to move, bracing yourself on his chest for leverage so you could bounce on his cock.

“Was this what you’d imagined?” You asked, admittedly a bit breathless. “During your–Fuck… Your hip thrust sets?”

“Baby…” Planting his feet firmly on the bed, and with his tight grip on your hips, Chris started to thrust up, so suddenly you fell on your elbows at either side of his head, moaning loudly. “It’s… So… Much… Better”, he emphasised each word with sharp thrusts, hitting your walls just right, making you whine.

You tried your best to match his pace, bringing your hips down when he brought his up. You could feel your soft flesh rippling every time your bodies collided, and you honestly couldn’t contain the sounds that were flying past your lips as Chris kept relentlessly ramming into you.

“You’re a fucking dream”, Chris groaned, pulling one of your arms behind your back and holding it in place with one of his strong hands to keep you flush against his body, chest against chest, while his other hand moved from your hip to grab a handful of your ass. “You take it so fucking well, fuck…”

All you could do was whine as you buried your head in the crook of his neck, attaching your lips to his throat in an attempt to muffle the pathetic sounds that were coming out of your mouth. As soon as your free hand made its way into Chris’ hair and tugged, he groaned, and his hands tightened their hold on you in response.

The longer you stayed there taking a pounding, the longer your clit rubbed against his lower abdomen, the more you felt your sanity slip between your fingers, leaving nothing in your mind but Chris and his cock ramming into you and his hands holding onto you.

You wanted to tell him how close you were, but you honestly weren’t sure if the words came out of your mouth at all. All you knew for sure was that after one particularly hard thrust you finally found your gratifying relief, mindlessly biting on Chris’ shoulder to somehow keep your mind a bit grounded through it all.

You vaguely registered Chris swearing, loudly, repeatedly, until the hand on your rear pushed you flush against him and the most delicious sounds flew past his lips as he came. You clenched around him, somewhat on purpose, somewhat because he just sounded so incredibly hot when he groaned and moaned so close to your ear you just couldn’t help your body’s reaction to him.

“Fucking hell…” Chris mumbled, turning his head enough to absentmindedly press kisses on your cheek, finally letting go of your arm and your buttock so he could wrap his arms tightly around your waist, holding you close.

You turned your head fully, catching his mouth in yours for a slow, gentle kiss, moving the hand that had been held on your back to softly caress his cheek while the other simply played with the more than mussed curls on his head.

You both laid there for a moment, until Chris muttered a ‘gimme a sec, baby. Gotta get rid of this fucking condom before I go soft and cum gets everywhere’.

So you got off of him, dropping to the side to catch your breath as you watched him leave the room to dispose of the soiled latex and come back in less than a minute. As soon as he was back on the bed he asked you to lay on top of him again, and you did, chuckling a bit once you straddled him and rested your weight on him.

“So this is why you wanted me, huh? So you could use me as your own personal weighted blanket?”

Chris just laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and burying a hand in your hair to softly massage your scalp. “How do you even come up with this stuff?”

“I’m a part-time comedian”, tucking your head under his chin, you couldn’t help but sigh, feeling content, and immensely satisfied.

Chris hummed, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “And a full time cutie”.

You pulled yourself away from his neck briefly, regarding him with a smile before you kissed him.

“Have you ever had Venezuelan food?” Chris asked as soon as you pulled back from the kiss, softly caressing your back.

“No, why?”

“There’s this really good place in the city centre I think you’d like… Was thinking maybe we could go there tonight”.

You quirked a brow at him with a teasing smile on your lips. “For our date?”

“God, yeah”, Chris giggled, blushing a bit as if he hadn’t just fucked you dumb, and somehow the sight of him blushing made your face heat up as well. “For someone so dense, you’re incredibly confident sometimes, you know? No wonder you got me all smitten like a fool”.

“Ohhh, you’re smitten?” You couldn’t help but tease him further.

“And like a fool. That’s a very important part”, Chris grinned at you.

You kissed him, because why wouldn’t you when he was so cute and hot and his lips were so kissable? Especially when he was almost glowing with the after-effects of his high, and when he was looking at you with borderline sparkly eyes.

“I like you so much, Chris. It’s embarrassing”, you mumbled against his mouth, pressing another kiss on his lips to emphasise your statement.

“At least we can be embarrassing fools together”, Chris giggled, but the sound quickly turned into an annoyed groan as he felt the bed dip again when Wolfgang jumped on it, carrying a penguin plushie in his mouth, doing little hops, and wagging his tail so fervently all you could do was coo and laugh.

Herbie had indeed been a bad financial investment, but, at this very moment, all that monetary loss seemed to pale in comparison to how happy and full you felt. As you rolled off of Chris and he lunged at Wolfgang, essentially wrestling with his dog while he laughed, you were more than certain that it had all been worth it, and that you were more than ready to build your romantic relationship with Chris.

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forbidden-sunlight · 7 months

Text

yandere! kusuriuri with chise!reader headcanons

Warnings: obsessive behavior, violence, and blood.

There may also be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

Hey guys, welcome to the finale in this mini-series, featuring the beloved Medicine Seller of the classic anime horror series, Mononoke, and the character!reader who is Chise Hatori from the fantastic world of The Ancient Magus Bride. There will also be some references from the aforementioned manga/anime series as well as from the cozy novel Emily Wilde’s Encyclopedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett. I highly recommend it! :)

Shout-out to @enryegotrip for being a collaborator and being an awesome person as well @deathmetalunicorn1 for providing feedback and making sure all the characters weren’t too OOC 😅 Check out their stuff, guys, their blogs are fantastic.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ending of this cozy yandere fic :) If you would like to see more adventures featuring these two, please let me know in the comments!

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE : A FOX’S WEDDING PREPARATIONS

The flow of time is erratic and completely unpredictable in the Fairy Kingdom. A day here could be an entire season in the human world or even a week. It is not controlled by the rulers of this plane, so the neighbors cannot be completely blamed when they lure a beautiful human away from their home with enchanting music for the purpose of playing with them until there is nothing left of them, a soulless husk. That was how they entertained themselves for centuries. It would even be considered a sport. Fortunately, the number of incidents has decreased drastically since I succeeded Elias as the mage of this village. My workload, however, is not the reason why I haven’t been writing in the leatherbound notebooks as I should have been; there is one to record my daily life, and another to document whatever discoveries I make in the field.

As I am writing this, I am recounting what my houseguest Kusuriuri has told me, word for word. These are his words, not mine. The last memory I have is returning home from a day in the city. I had collected supplies for a lecture at the College. Because I am a Sleigh Beggy, I am much closer to the source of magic than any living creature, save for those who have existed for eons, such as Ashen Eyes and the ancient spirits that surround the forest just beyond the village. That was why the Director invited me to speak to the students, and impart my knowledge to them. Including a lengthy discussion, I was also entrusted with overseeing the first-years interacting with the neighbors, and stepping in if things got out of hand.

Yet when I stepped into the backroom where I worked, organizing everything for the following morning, I had collapsed. Ruth had been the first one to hear the loud thud, having sat outside of the door curled up in a ball, bored and waiting for dinner to be ready so he could drag me out of there. Silky was in the kitchen, and so was he, Kusuriuri, assisting her in preparing the evening’s meal since he had already gone for a walk around the village and read some books earlier. He claimed to have heard Ruth's barking and followed the sound to see me laying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding from the mouth.

Silky panicked, naturally, and rushed back to the kitchen to grab the smelling salts and other herbs that Elias had told her to specifically brew as soon as she saw symptoms of magical depletion. Kusuriuri lowered to the ground and lifted me off of the floor, being careful not to jostle me. When he saw Ruth mirroring the same condition as I, he asked him to get back in the shadows, as from what he understood, it is safer for him to maintain his state of mind and spiritual body. He swore to Ruth that he would look after me, doing whatever he could to help.

It was Ruth who had instructed him to take me to see Shannon, the changeling doctor who has been treating me for my condition. By offering a trinket to the Ariels, he was led to a fairy mound and took me there, bundled up in a thick blanket and a blindfold around my eyes so that my body did not keep unconsciously absorbing the magic around me. They led him past the mound’s barrier, down the evergreen steps and into the Fairy Kingdom where Shannon ran her clinic.

It appears that as soon as he stepped into the Fairy Kingdom, the glamor charms he had placed on him were removed. The Kusuriuri who now sits beside me in a chair with a strange smile, is the true form of my foxy guest. Wavy light pink hair that reflected orange highlights beneath the realm’s eternal sunlight, cat-yellow eyes, and skin that accentuated the intricate patterns that were painted on his face. The bright, hallucinogenic patterns of his kimono were turned inside out, transforming into greens, reds, and blues against obsidian silk. He was, is, truly beautiful in such an ethereal way, anyone who could not succumb to his seduction charms would know immediately he was not a human. Then again, seduction charms have ensured that the fox spirits were still alive to this very day and not hunted down tirelessly by exorcists.

If there is one truth I hate to admit…it is never knowing whether I have used too much magic, or just enough so that I do not keep passing out and getting treatment. I hate being a burden to others, even when I am getting better at asking for help if I truly need it. It is hard to believe that it might already be close to half of a year since Ruth brought him home, injured and very confused in an era of modern society that is nothing like his home country.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Presently, Shannon is having me undergo extensive treatment, physical and magical therapy to be precise. Angela will need to be contacted to create another talisman to regulate the magic being absorbed and expelled from my body. Kusuriuri….well….he asked me a question that caught me off guard, completely out of the blue.

“At death’s door, you are given two choices: to be young, healthy, and beautiful forevermore….or would allow yourself to be ferried to the afterlife, and be judged for the life you have led as a human?”

Yes. That is what he asked me. And I answered truthfully, because….well, I cannot lie, even if I wanted to. Being an immortal does not give someone the ability to go against the laws of nature and control. Their time is just extended, and soon everything and everyone will return from where they came from; the soil beneath our feet, or the river of magic that sustains all life for the hidden ones. There is not a single being in this world that is an exception of the inevitable. Looking back, from when I had almost all hope and sold myself on the black market, to being a respectable mage who has come to accept the demons of the past yet cannot forgive those who have harmed me and my loved ones…I’d say I have lived a very fulfilling life.

If I had died that day I blacked out in the lab...I would have only regretted being a burden to Silky and Ruth, for they have been here for me ever since Elias to travel the world on a sabbatical. He stared at me, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open for but only a moment before he smiled softly. He then stood from his chair, stepping forward and pulling me into his arms, one hand placed on my shoulder and the other resting on the back of my head.

He whispered softly in my ear, two words that startled and confused me greatly. “You pass.”

Pass? What did I pass, exactly?

Unfortunately I did not have an opportunity to ask what he meant because Shannon is now here, announcing it is time for our physical therapy session in the woods, which is why I will stop writing in here until much later, hopefully…

Kusuriuri watched the changeling and her patient walk away from the cottage towards the forest. Albeit tempted to follow them and become more familiarized with Shannon’s medical methods, he tried not to worry; the red string attached to his pinky reminded him that no matter where or how far he was apart from [First Name], he would always find his bride. There is no doubt that his creator is already aware that the mage had passed his test and was already coordinating with the other gods to prepare the wedding ceremony. Inari-sama always got like this whenever his children found their lifelong companion, acting more like an anxious mother-in-law who wanted everything to be perfect.

No doubt it would take place in the temple, a traditional procession where the world would go silent as his kindred trailed after the bride, donned in kimonos and masks that coordinated with the clans they were affiliated with. Still…perhaps it was not too much of a stretch to ask his creator to allow him to have a tiny bit of control over the ceremony before things got too out of hand, yes? He is the groom after all.

He felt his face heat up at the image of [First Name] donned in the white bridal kimono and wearing a fox mask, his heart beginning to hammer against his ribs. Ah…she would be so beautiful that day, he had no doubt. And she will be all his, so very, very, soon. But he must be patient. He had not waited this long to attain a bride he personally desired by being hasty. A love like theirs must be gently nurtured, after all.

The love of a mage and a zenko who kills Mononoke, that is.

And a zenko will always guard what they treasure the most, keep them away from those who would dare to try and claim what is rightfully theirs.

Bonus Content:

Because his bride possessed the Gift of Sight, [First Name] is able to see the Mononoke as clear as day. This revelation both relieved Kusuriuri and elevated his overprotective nature tenfold, especially when they traveled to Japan for their honeymoon. Neither had expected to cross paths with a highly aggressive bakeneko in the halls of an inn renowned for its hot springs, yet [First Name] proved herself to be highly efficient in using magical tools to keep the Mononoke at bay as well as helping him figure out its Form, Truth, and Regret.

Did he also mention...that she was also exceptionally beautiful when she yelled at him at the top of her lungs to release the Sword of Exorcism as she pushed back against the Mononoke, utilizing strength of The Dragon's Curse that was nestled within her arm?

Perhaps...he'll make more of an attempt to purposely anger if it meant seeing such a lovely expression on her face.

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@sketchlove

@i-am-the-pirate-queen

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#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #x reader #ns.fw #ror x reader #yandere #mononoke 2007 #mononoke kusuriuri x reader #mononoke medicine seller #mononoke 2024 #mononoke medicine seller x reader #cw dubious consent #cw blood #cw obsessive behavior #cw obsession #tw obsessive love #tw obsessive behavior #chise!reader

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blue-slxt · 9 months

Text

Our Song Cord: Can't Help Falling

(Chapter 2)

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: I know I said it was gonna be up this morning, but I got caught up with other shit lol. So here it is. Things start to heat up a little in this chapter. I have a soft spot for virgin characters. I think I just really identify with all the curiosity and nerves that come with discovering all this stuff lol. This is also one of the longest chapters I've ever written for anything. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! Every chapter title is a song reference so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are heavily encouraged. All characters are aged up.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Cheating? (depends on how you look at it), Fingering, Oral (M receiving), Heat Cycle, Masturbation (briefly), I think that's all.

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: You and Neteyam have mastered the basics and feel like it's time to move on to the next step.

For the next week or so, you and Neteyam continue with your “training” sessions. You never really go farther than what you’ve already done. You know, just to make sure you both really have it down. On more than a couple occasions, you had to explain away little purple marks that Neteyam would leave littered around your jaw, neck, and chest after getting carried away.

“Just got a little too rough while we were sparring.” You’d laugh it off when questioned.

“Neteyam, you need to learn how to pull some of your punches, skxawng!” Kiri would chide him.

Once you both feel like you have a real handle on what you’re doing, Neteyam tells you how he’s finally going to put all his practice to good use. He’s finally going to try making out with Layao. You send him off with an encouraging smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and a sinking feeling in your gut, but still words of reassurance all the same. It was almost as if you were nervous for him. But there was no reason to be nervous. He was good, really good. Neteyam had mastered the art of making you breathless with just a kiss in a matter of no time. He really was a prodigy. He was going to completely sweep her off her feet, no question about it. But maybe, that was the reason for the nerves.

Still, his excitement as he recounted his eventful night with her was contagious.

“You should have seen me! I did it just like how we practiced. And she looked almost as pretty as you do when we were done.”

He may not have caught it, but you certainly did. Your brain can’t help but hyper-fixate on the use of the word ‘almost’, but you tuck that away into the background to mull over later. For now, you were listening to your best friend eagerly tell you all about his conquest while pushing away the growing nausea in your gut.

“That’s great, Teyam. I told you, you’re a natural.” You say offering him a genuine smile.

“Well, it’s not like I can take all the credit.” He says nudging your shoulder with his. A sheepish smile crosses your lips. “So, I was thinking that we should move on to more advanced stuff since we seem to have the basics down now, don’t you think?” he suggests.

It causes you to pause momentarily thinking about the more “advanced” interactions the two of you could have with each other. “O-oh, yea. Definitely. It’s like you read my mind.” You try to play it off as if your mind isn’t screaming at you right now.

“Great, then I will see you tonight.” His charming smile is almost too gorgeous to look at right now. There’s no way anyone could convince you that Neteyam wasn’t one of Eywa’s favorites.

…

“Alright, so what are we trying tonight?” you ask leaning your back against a nearby tree. Neteyam’s hands clenched and relaxed at his sides which he often did when he was nervous about something. Your own anxiety feeds off of his as your eyes watch him carefully and he tries to build up the courage to say his idea out loud.

“Well…we already have everything sorted out up top…” his hands quickly gesture to your chest and his eyes fall to look at the ground instead of your face. “S-so, I thought it might be time to move…you know…lower” his voice is basically a whisper by the time he finishes his sentence. Your legs instinctively squeeze together and you suddenly feel extremely vulnerable just even thinking about his hands down there. Neteyam seems to notice your slight change in posture. “We don’t have to, though, if you don’t feel ready to try that yet.” The words tumble out of his mouth so fast you would think it was all one long word.

“No no no, it’s fine. I’m just maybe a little nervous.” You admit letting your gaze follow his to the ground. Your ears fall to your head hoping the ground would swallow you to save you from this incredibly vulnerable feeling brewing in your chest. Neteyam takes a few steps towards where you were still perched against the tree until he was close enough to hold your face and make you look back up at him. His face was close enough for you to catch the faint reflection of your tanhì in his gorgeous honey-colored eyes.

“I’ll be gentle.”

You’re not sure if it’s the low tone of his voice dancing around your ears, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, or just the sheer proximity, but something had your body buzzing all over like a million bees.

“I know you will, Teyam. Just…kiss me first? To help ease me into it.” It’s incredibly embarrassing to ask for it, but right now, your want far outweighed your embarrassment.

His hand stays planted against your cheek when he leans in and kisses you. His body presses into yours and his other hand familiarly lands on your hip. You let your mind get lost in the moment. So lost that you don’t even feel when your own arms drape around his neck and hold him close to you. It’s as if your body is moving on its’ own carrying out your deepest desires without you needing to tell it what to do. Your legs part allowing his body to slot right into place. The throbbing between your thighs is growing by the second.

You take hold of his hand on your hip and move it lower to the waistband of your loincloth. Neteyam breaks the kiss to look down at his hand and then back at your face. You give the tiniest nod of your head to encourage him to continue and his fingers trail under your loincloth and come into direct contact with your core. His ears and eyebrows both shoot up feeling you for the first time.

“It’s so warm and slippery.” He says experimentally dragging his fingers through your folds.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be” you try to ignore the shakiness of your voice as it leaves your throat. “The most important part is the clit.” His fingers go still against you while he looks at you listening intently.

“It’s a small little nub near the top. It’s really sensitive and you’re going to want to really get familiar with it.” You explain feeling your face get hot.

He pulls his fingers forward until he reaches the little bud that makes you squeak when he presses against it. “That’s it.” A small smile crosses his lips momentarily before he speaks again.

“So, now what do I do?” “Well, everybody likes something different, but you usually can’t go wrong with just rubbing little circles into it.” You could really only speak from your own experience of nights that you had done this to yourself.

“Like this?” his finger harshly pushes against your clit and it makes you jump.

“A little softer. Not so much pressure, okay? It’s a really sensitive spot so you don’t want to do it too hard.”

He nods his head processing your advice. He lightens his touch and tentatively rubs circles around and around on your clit. Fuck, he was perfect at this already. After that one quick adjustment, his pressure and speed were nothing short of flawless. “Mmf…haah th-that’s good. Just like that…” your knees buckle under you and if it weren’t for the tree you were pressed against, you probably would’ve been on the ground already. Your head falls back to the tree and your eyes close silently praying that you could live in this moment that you’ve dreamt about countless times forever. Small mewls and moans pass your lips under his touch.

Neteyam is trying desperately to ignore the way his own dick is throbbing in his loincloth listening to the sounds you’re making. He does his best to ensure that he’s putting forth his best effort to make you feel good. And fuck, was he making you feel good. The pleasure overtakes any sense of logic that you may have been holding onto.

“M-more…”

Neteyam looks at you with eyelids already starting to hood his eyes.

“I…I want to feel you inside…” your cheeks burn saying it out loud, but it feels as if you might be devoured whole by your desire if you don’t feel him where your need is the strongest.

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re okay with—”

“Mhm…please, Teyam…”

His ears twitch in your direction at your sensual pleas and his dick twitches begging to be the one that fills you. He cautiously moves his fingers between your folds that were now dripping down his knuckles. When he reaches your entrance, he lightly probes at you with one of his fingers making you clench around nothing until he finally pushes inside. His jaw drops open feeling the way your walls suck his finger right in and envelope him in a feeling of slippery warmth.

It feels like your breathing stutters in your throat as his finger stretches you. His finger was so much bigger than your own and you’ve never been more aware of that fact than right now as he unintentionally pressed the pad of his finger against the spongey part of your walls.

“Mm!” you do your best to muffle your sounds

“Is this okay?” his voice conveys his concern, but his eyes hold only a lusty haze while they jump around from your eyes to your lips and chest and between your thighs that sat spread for him.

“Y-yea…now, just angle your finger towards the front and move in and out slowly.”

“Like this?” he slowly pulls his finger out just to the top knuckle and then sinks back in at just the angle you need.

“Ahh…yea, right there” You don’t mean for it to sounds as enticing as it comes out, but Neteyam can feel his self-restraint slipping away. He can’t stop himself from attaching his lips to their favorite spot on your neck and nipping little bites into your soft skin. His finger never stops thrusting up into you and your legs are starting to feel like jelly beneath you.

Your arms hold tight around his neck to help keep you upright. It’s almost automatic the way your leg hikes up around his waist to give his hand even more access to you.

“Nete~…” you call out completely not meaning to. You’ve never called him that name. The only people who called him that were girls in the clan hoping to catch his attention with their sweet voices and swishing tails. He always said it was embarrassing, but in this moment, hearing it roll off your lips, it makes him groan against your skin.

“Say it again…need…need to hear you…” his voice is breathy and his words broken between his heavy breathing that fans your jaw line as he continues kissing everywhere he can reach.

You weren’t expecting that kind of response, but you comply regardless.

“Nete…oh, Great Mother, I’m going to cum!” your body tightens its hold on him pressing his body right up against you hoping it’ll anchor you to this plane of existence. This was nothing like doing it to yourself and now you wonder how you’ve managed to go this long without the touch of another person. And you think that you never want to be without this feeling ever again.

His cheek is pressed right up against your own and his free hand gropes at your breast. It takes the last thread of his sanity to not scent you right now as he feels your impending climax threatening to strangle his finger right off his hand.

“Haah…go ahead, let me feel it.” His voice is right next to your ear sending shivers down your spine. Almost on command, the knot in your body snaps and you cum with trembling legs and a small, almost silent scream from your mouth. Your nails leave deep purple indents on his skin from where you’re holding onto him and even Neteyam lets out a small moan feeling your walls convulse around him as you ride out your high. His hands go still against you when you come down and he pulls his face back to look at you.

Looking up at Neteyam right now, you can’t seem to bring your brain to recognize him as your best friend that you’ve known since before you could remember, but instead, you see a gorgeous man hovering just inches away from your face who’s gazing down at you like he wants to give you the world and you want to let him.

Neither of you say a word when he carefully slides his finger out of you and holds his hand up to examine how his skin glistens in the moonlight covered in your slick that’s still trickling down his hand.

Neteyam isn’t sure what kind of compulsion came over him that moment, but with no hesitation, he brings his finger to his lips and licks it clean before you can find the words to protest. Your ears pin to your head but you feel physically unable to look away from him. He moans lowly at the taste of you on his finger.

“You taste sweet.”

Somehow, you are equal parts mortified and turned on. Your eyes want to fall to the ground, but they get distracted at the tenting of his loincloth. You let one of your hands fall from his shoulder to palm him through the fabric. He sucks in a sharp breath at the contact.

“You don’t have to do that.”

You look up at his face, “I want to.”

It takes a second for the implications of your words to really settle in your mind.

“I-I mean, I need to learn how to do this too, you know…” A lie. Truth was, you were so desperate to have him right now, you thought you might actually go insane. But of course, you’d never be able to tell that to him, you can barely even tell it to yourself.

There’s only a thick silence as Neteyam resigns himself to you and lets you undo the knot holding his loincloth around his hips. The fabric falls to the ground and…oh, fuck, Neteyam really was Eywa’s favorite. It’s not like you really knew what was considered average, but you had a general idea from the talk amongst the other girls in the clan. And Neteyam was far above average. Just something else to make him even more perfect.

You sink to your knees in front of him and Neteyam is simultaneously thankful for the dark so that you can’t see the flush of his cheeks, but he also curses it as it prevents him from seeing you clearly the way he really wants to right now.

“S-so, do I just…grab it?” you finally pull your eyes back up to his face waiting for him to guide you in what to do.

“Um, well, first, you should spit in your hand.” His voice is low, clearly embarrassed about explaining this kind of thing. You cock an eyebrow at him feeling skeptical about what he’s asking you to do. “It helps your hand slide smoother.”

You know that Neteyam would never intentionally lead you astray, so you do ask he says and let a long stream of saliva fall into your palm. His big hand holds your wrist and guides your hand to wrap around his length. It’s firm just like the muscles in his arms and it’s heavy in your hand.

“Just slowly move your hand like this…” his hand gently moves yours back and forth along him. After a couple of experimental strokes, he removes his hand and lets you continue on your own. It feels so…indecent, but also strangely thrilling.

“Is this good?”

“Mm…yea, you can do it a little tighter.” He says trying to keep his voice from wavering. You add some more pressure to your hold while still keeping your rhythm and Neteyam lets out a shaky breath. You’ve been watching his face the whole time, but when he makes eye contact with you, your chest squeezes feeling overwhelmed. So, you choose to focus on your hand instead. Watching the repetitive stroke of your hand and how his tip disappears into your palm only to poke back through feels like falling into a trance. A trance so deep that it removes any and all semblance of sanity you may have still had. Your mouth starts to salivate and drool down your chin which you wipe away with the back of your free hand.

It’s not enough. You need more. You want to give him more. It’s almost as if you’re watching yourself, but you can’t do anything to stop when you gently take him into your mouth. He’s so big, it’s a wonder how it would ever fit inside of your pussy. But fuck, if you didn’t want to make it fit.

“Haah…w-wait…” Neteyam’s voice is shaky and breathless being completely caught off guard by the all-encompassing warmth that now wrapped around him. He almost wants to tell you not to push yourself and that you don’t have to go this far tonight. Almost. But when his eyes find yours looking up at him big and glazed over with over half of his dick in your mouth, he is absolutely powerless to stop you.

You’re not entirely sure what to do besides just moving your head up and down. You try to incorporate your tongue by licking and dragging here and there. From what you can tell from his face and the sounds he’s making, the tip feels the best especially when you drag your tongue from the underside of it to the slit.

“A-ah fuck”

His hips are twitching and his muscles tense and relax while you work on him. Your desire to make him feel good drives you to try and fit more of him in your mouth. His tip pokes and prods at the back of your throat and it’s so thick, you can’t hold it there for more than a second or two before you need to pull back for air. But the way that it makes his chin drop to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut while he moans out praises for you makes it worth it.

“Hng…just like that”

He looks like he’s close and you were determined to get him there. You push him to the back of your throat again and his dick twitches inside of your mouth.

“Ah, I’m going to cum!” his eyes shoot open to watch you while you coax his release out of him.

You pop your mouth off of him and pump him with your fist right in front of your face.

“Wait, y-your face…” he starts, but you couldn’t care less.

“It’s okay. Just let go, Nete.” That’s all it took and he was done for. His release comes out in hot, thick ropes of white that spill over your hand and shoot onto your mouth and chin. His head falls back as he cums with a loud groan and a force that damn near knocks him off of his feet.

When he’s done, you release your hold on him and just stare in awe at the remnants of him on your hand. He looks down at you trying to find his breath and sees how you let your tongue swipe across your bottom lip to taste him.

It takes every ounce of focus he just regained to not get hard again from watching you.

“Hmm…tastes like utumauti. It’s nice.” you say letting the flavor dance around your tongue.

Neteyam quickly pulls his loincloth back on and pulls a piece of cloth from a satchel on his side.

“Here, let me help wipe you off.” He says kneeling in front of you.

“You know you don’t have to do that, Teyam.” You subconsciously revert to your regular nickname for him.

“I know, but it only feels right.” He says already grabbing your hand and swiping away the mess. This man was too sweet for his own good. Your heart can’t help but ache a bit at watching it go to waste, but you bite your tongue and settle for the ghost of the flavor still in your mouth. When he’s done with your hand, he reaches out to your face and starts wiping it off too. His eyes stay focused on the areas where he’s wiping, but your eyes are admiring his features in the soft glow of the moonlight. Neteyam has always been good looking, but he’s more than just handsome. He’s beautiful. He’s the kind of pretty that hurts to look at for too long. The kind that makes your heart flutter and ache with a burning need. And the kind that makes you greedily want to keep him all to yourself.

And then it clicks. When he notices you staring and his eyes meet yours, the pieces fit together. You love this man. You have always loved him. All these years, what you thought was just admiration for his work ethic, humming his song cord to yourself when you went about your day, the way your heart thundered when he would wrap you in one of his legendary hugs, all of it…was love.

And you wouldn’t come to know this until much later, but Neteyam realized the same exact thing in that same moment.

He’s the first to break the eye contact clearing his throat. “I think that’s all of it.”

“Thanks.” There’s a long moment of silence while the weight of everything sits on both of your chests. “Um, I think that’s good for tonight. Good work. I’m sure you’ll do great with Layao.” Her name brings a sharp sting to your chest, but you do your best to push the feeling away.

“Right. Right. Thanks. Um, you did good too. Were you planning on putting all your practice to use any time soon?”

You truly hadn’t actually thought about that part. Neteyam already had an intended mate that he was practicing for. But what about you? You didn’t have any solid prospects since everyone in the clan always thought you and Neteyam would end up together. You had never seriously considered what this would actually mean for you in terms of finding a mate.

“O-oh yea. There’s somebody I have in mind.” Another lie.

Neteyam presses his lips into a line nodding at you. “Well, he’s lucky.” He doesn’t bother to press you about who this mystery man is because he knows that if he finds out who it is, he wouldn’t be able to look at him without forever feeling the bitter pang of jealousy.

“We should probably start heading back.” You suggest finally standing to your feet. “I’ll head back first.”

“Right. See you later.” He says unable to pry his eyes away from the sway of your hips on your retreating figure.

…

“Let me guess, more training?” Kiri says gesturing to the small purple marks left from your previous night.

You laugh a little trying not to give away the flashsbacks playing through your mind. “You know it.” “I swear, for someone so even tempered, Neteyam really needs to learn how to hold back more.” She says grinding some herbs together.

“It’s fine. It’s not his fault. I kinda spur him on, I guess.”

“Well, you’d better start fighting back harder. He hardly ever has a mark on him.” She says finally walking over to you with a small sack of various herbs and placing it in your hands.

“I’ll make a note of that” you say giggling a bit. “Thanks for these.” “You know, I don’t know why you won’t just find a guy to help you through your heat. It would be much better and more effective than any of these herbs. Especially since they’ll start to be less effective over time.” She says kind of rolling her eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah, so you’ve mentioned before. I don’t know. I just haven’t found the right guy that does it for me yet.” You shrug your shoulders and try to control the blush trying to creep into your face and stand to leave.

“Oh, wait before you go” a less familiar voice calls out to you. It’s Layao walking over to you with a giddy smile. “What kind of things does Neteyam like? I want to make him something, but I can’t decide what he’d like best. I figured since you know him better than anyone, I should ask you for your opinion.”

She was right, you did know him better than anyone. Even better than anyone would ever know.

“Oh, well, he likes yovo fruit and arm bands. You can’t really go wrong with those.” The tightening of your chest is nearly strangling the breath right out of you. You can’t, and won’t, stand in the way of what was already decided.

“Yovo and arm bands. Got it. Thank you.” She says before walking back over to her corner of the healing tent.

It’s a harsh reminder of the fact that you stupidly realized far too late that you loved the man you couldn’t have. You dismiss the thoughts with a quick shake of your head and start on the path home.

You have to prepare. Your heat will be here soon and you needed to ensure that you have enough food and water and supplies to get you through. Cycle after cycle you would writhe in agony on the floor of your home for days on end. From what you’ve heard, having a partner makes your heat pass much quicker. And it’s not like it was uncommon for young Na’vi to explore sex with many partners before mating, but that just wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want it to just be whatever willing participant you could stumble upon.

Looking around your home right now, you’re realizing that you may not have enough utumauti. It’s your favorite during your cycles and even though you have a hefty amount, knowing how quickly you can go through those, you felt like it would be best to air on the side of caution and get more.

On your way out into the forest, you bump into Aykxo.

“Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn’t see you down there.” He jokes. Even for a Na’vi, Aykxo was tall. Tall enough to see clear over your head without trying. He probably actually didn’t see you.

You readjust your top and reassure him that it’s fine.

“You’re Neteyam’s friend, right?” he asks.

Your eyes squint at him a bit in confusion, but also suspicion. “Yeah, I am. Why?”

“Are you…just his friend?” You don’t miss the way his eyes quickly scan your body up and down. Okay, so that’s where this was going.

“Yup. We are just friends.” It makes you cringe to say out loud. It’s not technically a lie. It was true that, officially, you and Neteyam were only best friends and as far as anybody else knew, that’s all you were. But in truth, you were something more to each other, no matter how hard either of you may try to justify the turn in your relationship with the ‘training’ excuse.

“Good to know. Then, you wouldn’t mind maybe meeting me later after eclipse?” His hand trails down the side of your arm to your hand where he takes hold of it. He certainly is bold. The act is enough to give you chills, but not in the same way that you’re used to.

You can feel a pair of eyes burning holes into you and when you find the source of the searing gaze, it’s none other than your ‘just friend’, Neteyam standing near the opening of the healing tent with Layao and Kiri. Layao has her arms wrapped securely around Neteyam’s arm while her head rests on his shoulder and she talks with Kiri. Neteyam is clearly uninterested in whatever they were talking about and was much more curious about your conversation.

You finally turn back to Aykxo, “Yeah, sounds nice.”

He smiles and kisses your hand before continuing in the direction he was originally headed. You decided you need to at least try to give other guys a chance. And Aykxo was handsome and a good hunter and all. After all, this is what you’ve been preparing for, isn’t it?

…

“So, I saw you talking with Aykxo earlier.” Neteyam starts to inquire. He decided soon after the encounter to join you on your hunt for more utumauti.

“Yeah, I guess he wants to meet later tonight after eclipse. I told him I’d come, but I don’t know. I’m kind of nervous about it.” You do your best to sound at least casual instead of disinterested. If you would have turned to look at Neteyam, you would’ve noticed how his gaze grew shifty.

“Were you planning to try…?” his words trail off implying what he wants to say without actually saying it.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really decided yet.”

“You know he’s going to fall in love with you if you do, right?” He keeps picking fruit, but you whip around to look at him with slightly wider eyes.

“How do you figure?” You ask cocking your head at him.

“I mean if you do what you did before, no man in his right mind could not fall in love with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. And then another. Your mouth gets stuck open waiting to find words to form around. Clearly, the insinuation of his statement hits you far before it hits him since he just continues gathering until he notices your silence and turns to see your stunned expression.

“I-I mean, you know, not trying to say—just, what I mean is…you were just really good is what I was trying to say.” His words are jumbled and stuttering and his face is a deep purple while he tries to avoid eye contact with you right now. You can’t help the grin that slides across your face watching this adorably goofy man lose his composure.

“What about you? You and Layao definitely looked very cozy today”, you taunt. “You might not even have to do anything more to get her to be head over heels for you.”

He chuckles lowly to himself, “You may be right. Still, I want to make sure that I’m prepared for anything.”

“Of course.”

“Anyways, do you really think this many utumauti is reasonable? Your heat is only 3 days, you have enough to last an average family for a week!” he exaggerates, but he does this every time you’re gathering supplies for your heat.

“You know it’s my favorite. It’s basically the only thing I eat for those 3 whole days. I need a lot of it.”

“If you say so, but this still seems excessive if you ask me. There’s no way anyone can eat this much in just 3 days.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Teyam. You know me better than that.” You tsk at him waving your finger.

…

It feels like your nerves are going to eat you alive walking with Aykxo through the forest tonight. Neteyam had sent you off with an encouraging smile and the reminder to “blow him away”. You rolled your eyes at his stupid joke, but it did help in somewhat easing the tension that had made a home in your gut.

Your hand feels clammy letting Aykxo lead you through the night. Or maybe that’s just in your mind. But your whole body feels off kilter with the anticipation. Soon, you both reach a small clearing and you let out a small yelp when he suddenly pulls you into his arms and holds you against his chest.

“O-oh, uh…” you start, but Aykxo is clearly uninterested in talking as he starts to attack your neck with kisses and licks and nips. He groans against your skin letting his hands roam up and down your body.

Even though your mind is completely taken aback, your body erupts in goosebumps all over and you feel hot. You don’t want this, but why is your body behaving like it does? When you try to turn your head away from him, your balance feels shaky, at best. That’s when it hits you, your heat is here. It shouldn’t be here already. You should have another few days. But it seems to have other plans for you.

Home. You need to get home right this instant. You place your hands against Aykxo’s chest and gently push him back off of you. When he looks at you, he’s clearly confused about why you stopped him.

“I’m sorry, I just…I thought we were just going to talk. Um, I think I need to go.” You say fighting your body’s urge to submit to the nearest living being. If you were on day 2 or 3, you might be desperate enough to give in, but his pheromones are slightly off-putting to your nose. They’re not the worst, but not enough to make you want him this close to you right now.

“But I thought—” he says, but you don’t let him finish. You don’t have the time to listen to the rest of his sentence.

“I’m so sorry. I really just need to go.” You say already backing out of his hold and turning to run back home. Of course, you feel bad leaving him there high and dry and clearly giving him the wrong impression, but that’s something to worry about later when you can actually control your mind and body. For now, your main focus is hiding away at home and riding out these next 3 excruciating days.

You sprint home as fast as your feet will carry you and a blink of relief hits you when it finally comes into view. You break through the opening and fall onto your sleep mat trying to catch your breath. The itch is starting to creep in much stronger than is usual for your first day. Your body is calling out for relief. You let your fingers crawl under your loincloth and between your legs to hopefully find some comfort. When your fingers slip between your wet folds, it makes your ears twitch with curiosity when the name that slips past your lips is ‘Neteyam’…

Taglist: @soleilmoon @netemoon @fifia-writes @strangersav11

@eywascall @neteyamsluvts @heart-an0n @iman-lu @xylianasblog @theunfortunateplace @hyejusdiary @savvysscandles @randxmthxughts @tiredmamaissy @yeosxxx @atwow69 @bellstwd @iseeyouuu @simp4ff @universal-s1ut @mynameisjuno @teyamsatan @uaze123 @nelissecrectplace @angrypomeranianwifey @perfectxserendipity @yumimak @rainbowturdz @rhiannonhippiegirl @sullymenrhot @hiddensnow1 @rainymoonsheep @ivysully @badbussylol @afro-hispwriter @fandom-geek17 @teyamsmate @iameatingmyhair

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#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut

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cupcakeslushie · 1 year

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Separate Donnie is just so precious but also I want to put him in a jar a shake him like a kid with a firefly

DONNIE TIME!! Strap in, this one’s gonna be long

@raisondetre2012 @cutesybumbleb

Donnie struggles a lot in the beginning with distinguishing his brothers from his hallucinations. It helps that his real brothers act so different from the harsh figments that constantly torment him, but his brain will still trick him into listening and believing what they’re saying. The family has to be very careful at first when Donnie’s deep in one of his episodes, as there’s no telling how he’ll react to them intervening. Sometimes they’re able to guide him back with soft spoken words of encouragement, and other times he’s convinced they’re just trying to get him to let his guard down and he’ll get pulled deeper into the fog of his hallucinations.

The family’s knowledge of everything Donnie went through with Draxum is sort of limited down to: traumatic events Donnie has mentioned jokingly in passing, the horrifyingly casual way Donnie talks about testing things on himself, and just seeing with their own two eyes that Donnie has clearly been put through severe physical and psychological trauma for a long time. Mikey is probably the only one brave enough to ask about specific scars like Donnie’s metal plate and his wrists, but after hearing the blunt and honest recounts from Donnie, no one really feels a strong desire to dig any deeper.

@redheadedhypocrite They all have their own issues but Leo and Mikey are better able to mask theirs, unlike Donnie who can’t really contain his own panic any time he thinks he’s done something wrong. They just try their best to avoid any land mines, because hearing Donnie grovel and stutter his way through apology after apology for any little perceived mistake is pretty heartbreaking for all of them.

Donnie has a hard time with accepting that he deserves his place in the family, and thus will often still refer to himself silently as Three. He doesn’t really understand that the things Draxum did to him were unforgivable. He was always led to believe that Draxum was just trying to make him stronger so he could stand next to his brothers once the time came that they were all reunited. It doesn’t help that when they are reunited, even if it’s not in the way he’d thought—he’s kept from joining his brothers in their patrols for months. Leo and Mikey are left to babysit him for a while, but even then, they rejoin Raph and April before Donnie is allowed out. And the way Splinter treats him is so alien to Donnie, the doting and the affection. He wants to be Donnie so badly, but he hasn’t done anything to deserve it. Life was so simple with Draxum. Three would do something, anything really, and be punished. Nine times out of ten, Three was able to predict how the end results would play out—with Donnie, everything is an unknown—and he hates not knowing.

Donnie’s first run in with Draxum is fine in the moment, his brothers and April are there, and Draxum’s attention is more focused on Raph, Leo and Mikey and trying to convince them to join him. And his family instinctively puts themselves in between Draxum and Donnie so there’s no mistaking where their opinion of Draxum lies. It’s only towards the end where for a split second in the chaos of battle, that Draxum gets a moment alone with Thre—Donnie, but that’s all his previous guardian really needs to throw Donnie off. The battle ends and they retreat, but Donnie can’t help but over analyze Draxum’s words for the rest of the night, getting no sleep and replaying the encounter again and again. Sleep doesn’t come, and in the morning…

@imtiredandcoffeeismylifestyle

Not sure if you guys checked out the character sheet, I’ll link that above, it’s got all their ages, and then the start of the comic, where Mikey gets rescued, is a sort of prologue and then when Leo and Donnie’s stories comes in a year later would be the start of the show, so ages are 14, 15, 16, and this takes place over two years with a bunch of stuff in between before the finale fight with Shredder, then a two month break where Leo goes on a type of vision quest and has to return quickly as the events of the movie call him back home.

A lot of Donnie’s scars are from experiments, while most of his psychological scars are from punishments. We’ll see a lot more of what Draxum did to Three so I wont go into much detail there. While with Leo, most of his scars are from him failing to follow through The Shredder’s orders or expectations. Most happened early on, during training, and as Leo grew, so did his ability, which meant fewer punishments, and more praise from Saki.

Three was fed pretty close to a regular soft shell turtle diet, mostly fish and 🤢 insects and frogs—bleh. Which he didn’t really…enjoy, but it’s not like he had much choice. As he got older and was able to fix his own meals, he would more often choose flavorless juice smoothies, and only fall back on the other options when he needed the variety. Donnie is pretty picky when he joins the fam, but he trusts Mikey’s suggestions over his other two brothers. All in all though he much prefers the diet he has now.

@tksmainhellhole The bandana is to cover up the scars on his head, which were some of Three’s first, and so he was more self-conscious and attempted to hide them. Eventually though, he has so many that he doesn’t care, but for some reason he likes the feeling of the bandana and so he keeps wearing it.

Raph, Leo, and Mikey can kind of remember enough turtle to instinctively communicate back. Leo’s pride prevents him from doing it unless Donnie is in distress. Otherwise Raph and Mikey think it’s adorable and have fun with it.

Three/Donnie would normally hate being covered in grime and he’ll usually wash off the oíl as quickly as he can, but he loves picking off the dried spray paint (omg he’s just like me fr). So with it there, it’s a great alternative to, ya know—other bad habits.

Donnie and Raph will both go non-verbal when pushed to a certain point. Raph tends to hide when he does this (except from Splinter or April), but Donnie will seek out comfort.

@snailsnaps When Donnie is overstimulated he tends to either shut down if it’s really bad, or if it’s just enough to give him a headache or irritate him he’ll go find someone to latch on to who he can zero in on and ground himself in. With how quickly his brain works, being under stimulated happens far more often, and is usually what brings on his work binges and some of his more chaotic ideas.

He’s more aggressive before sleeping, when he’s gone on a five day bender of zero sleep and constant tinkering. Getting him to finally pass out is where the struggle comes in. He’s pretty hard to wake up once he’s out, even in the midst of a nightmare, he’ll come awake on his own. Leo and Mikey are more the, don’t approach after waking, or risk being attacked types. But sometimes when Donnie goes into his own headspace, and dissociates too deeply, it’s best to leave him alone, since he doesn’t like to be touched during those moments. That’s when you could lose a finger.

Donnie and Raph have a great relationship, and Raph is the one who Donnie probably goes to the most when he’s overstimulated, because a Raph hug is better than any weighted blanket—Donnie can focus on Raph’s calm breathing and his heartbeat and the warmth of his arms around him, nothing at all like the cold, hard vines that Draxum would entangle Three in until he was practically suffocating.

@space-is-spooky Check out this post here for your answer on Splinter talking about Donnie!

@redheadedhypocrite I think I mentioned a while back that Donnie is more wistful when he thinks about what could’ve been his childhood, but he’s not bitter so much, as he doesn’t even really think he deserved to be rescued. He’s just grateful that he’s even allowed a place in this perfect, happy family, when he’s only ever been a disappointment.

@ifyourereadingthisblinktwice

Donnie, when he is finally allowed to join his brothers in battle, has a hard time with larger groups of opponents, since he’s got the least amount of field experience. He tends to do much better from afar or from higher ground where he can see the whole picture. He’s probably the stealthiest after Leo, but with Leo on the front lines directing the team with Raph, Donnie is the one who gets sent in for recon and intel gathering, and then he’ll take more of a backseat role, taking out stragglers and calling out positions. This doesn’t mean he’s helpless though, he’s just more used to fighting one on one, as that’s how Draxum trained him. He’s still a master with his bo and once he taps into his ninpo and has more training on how to work with his brothers, they all feel better about letting him jump into the thick of it without worrying that he’ll get hurt in the choas.

Also Donnie would 100% use explosives in battle if he didn’t have to worry about his bros and April being caught up in the blast. When he unlocks his ninpo he can create some pretty specific weapons that allow him more controlled, but just as fun explosions!

#separated au #ask slushie #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt separated au #rise of the tmnt #rise donnie #sep!au infodump

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mageknight14 · 3 months

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Dissecting the Femme Fatale Archetype: A Dive into Kanon Tachibana's Character

Kanon Tachibana is one of my favorite TWEWY supporting cast members. Probably not a truly unique opinion, as she's one of the more positively-received characters I've seen when it comes to online opinions on the game, but she's one of my favorites because she’s a perfect example of NEO’s more subtle character writing and gets the perspective flipped on her twice when you initially play through the game and then replay it. So, with that, let's get into her character and what makes her tick in particular.

When we first meet her, she doesn’t make the best first impression, what with her stealing the hard-earned victory pin from Rindo/Fret’s noses and sweet-talking them into letting her keep it (I also love how she glares at Shiba’s announcement, having seen this old song and dance).

Combine this with what the Social Network says about her leading other teams to their doom thanks to her honeyed words and sweet disposition and what we seemingly have is a classic case of the femme fatale character, someone who’s NOT to be trusted.

However, as we progress through the game, we can see that there’s actually a lot more to her than meets the eye. Even after point-sniping them, she still comes forward to give the Twisters advice from time-to-time when it comes to matters regarding the Game. Encouraging them to take on more team members, warning against going up to fight the Ruinbringers (Susukichi in particular), all that jazz.

At the same time, however, she also takes care to reaffirm that she’s also suspicious of the Twisters and their capabilities, often showing surprising amounts of protectiveness when it comes to the other team leaders. These switches between friendly teasing and hard-hitting accusations understandably unnerve the team a bit.

On top of that, throughout the weeks, she also shows a talent for picking apart Fret's surface-level compliments/attempts at flattery, herself being an expert when it comes to that sort of thing as noted by her Social Network profile.

While she is mainly looking out for herself and the Variabeauties, she also does have a sense of honor/fair-play when it comes to be able to fight on an even playing field, which she showcases in her alliance proposal to the Twisters on W2D3.

In the span of one convo, she was able to:

-Pick out that the Twisters are the biggest wild cards in the structure of the Game and note them as such, giving them incentive to look into their own capabilities and find her offer more appealing when weighing their options.

-Play into their doubts regarding the Game and reaffirm to them that this is really the only option they have left at this point if they want to have any hope of actually escaping.

-Blow away Fret’s preconceptions that she’s just as ingenuine as he is as shown by his nervous laughter

-Emphasize that if they’re able to pull it off, it’s a win-win for everyone involved.

It’s made apparent that Kanon is an incredibly skilled negotiator, though understandably Rindo still has her doubts about her because she’s been equal parts threatening and supportive, which sends a mixed message. Who’s to say where her allegiance truly lies?

However, a surprisingly strong affirmation on her convictions comes from no one other than Motoi himself, who actually vouches for Kanon’s intentions and belief in the Twisters being genuine on her part. This along with Swallow’s prodding later on gets Rindo to change his tune. Now, there’s a dozen different interpretations on why Motoi would go out of his way to vouch for Kanon’s character but the fact that he was actually right on the money is a pretty subtle hint that they know about each other and how they tick more than people realize…

Then we go into W2D7, where Kanon’s recounting of the Ruinbringers’ activities and her muted reaction towards Motoi’s erasure emphasizing that she’s been at this for a long, LONG, horrifying while, becoming practically numb to it all.

And when Sudden Death in Week 3 comes around, she starts to kick up her critique of Fret and his issues into overdrive, wanting to see him grow for the better knowing full well that she and the Variabeauties might not make it at the end of the week. And unfortunately for her, Fret, and the Beauties, that fear ends up becoming a reality.

The following day, Fret flat out tells the others about how he felt about Kanon: that he wanted to BE like her, finding her genuine nature and confidence in who she is as something to aspire to, and wanted her to see him reach that level.

By then, our perspective on Kanon has flipped: a scheming femme fatale who turns out to be an intelligent, real, and loyal soul. Someone who starts off cold towards the Twisters before coming around to genuinely like and appreciate them (note the little smile in image 2!)

However, this is only half of the real Kanon we get to know and when we take a look back at some of convos within the game, the Reports, and see past Fret’s idealized image of her, we get to see a much more deeper side to Kanon than what was already there.

First, we need to talk about two aspects of Kanon; her hidden resentment of the Twisters/the system she’s trapped in and her trust issues. As noted above, Kanon is quite curiously protective in regards to the other Player teams, even accusing the Twisters of sabotaging them at some points, and this is for one particular reason: she and the rest of the Beauties are in an unspoken alliance with both teams. One where the top 3 teams (besides the Ruinbringers of course) keep their footing by sending new players and other teams to last place. This is something that’s actually alluded to on W2D3, with the Beauties and Purehearts corroborating together to take down the Twisters.

I also want to draw your attention again to these scenes here, where in the second timeline Rindo has Replayed to, Kanon already knows about Fuya challenging the Ruinbringers whereas before in the first timeline she didn’t, hence why she’s a bit more antsy this time around.

The reason for this is because, due to the Wicked Twisters screwing up the balance of powers between the teams with their sheer existence and sending the DRS plummeting to last place on W1D5, Fuya has become more daring/reckless, desperate to etch out a win against Susukichi. While Fuya is noted by in the Social Network to have surprisingly strong Imagination, there's a reason why he and the the DRS are mainly in dead last.

Kanon and Motoi are the most powerful of the (non-Ruinbringers) teams solely because of their ability to manipulate things in their favour despite both being weak in psych/Imagination. In that regard they’re the most "successful" within the constraints of the rigged game. Fuya, on the other hand, while having strong psychic powers, isn't as wily as the other two in regards to their social prowess and failed to keep his team properly motivated and prevent them from feeling demoralized, which is shown most prominently on W1D5 where Rindo uses his time travel to reroute them from fulfilling their duties by playing on their desires in their moments of weaknesses.

With this in mind, it's no wonder that Fuya became so desperate to risk it all against Susukichi. And while the Twisters do almost bring about change by beating the Ruinbringers, it ultimately doesn’t matter in the long-run due to how incredibly rigged the Shinjuku game is and as a result, the DRS are eliminated, getting rid of the Beauties’ and Purehearts’ safety net.

This kind of stuff is what I mean by Kanon being a perfect example of NEO's subtle character writing. At first glance, Rindo's nonchalant note of her behavior in the second timeline isn't anything to write home about, but it's when you look at all these individual pieces and start lining them up all together, a clear picture starts to be formed. It's what makes NEO so fascinating as a work to explore everytime I replay it.

The Reports make it especially clear that the teams have been through this experience for 30 LOOPS, which has left them teetering on the brink of despair and coping with the situation in anyway they can, with W1D5 (as noted before) and W2D4, as well as other segments, exploring this in more detail.

Imagine going through what is essentially a never-ending hell for weeks on end with no opportunity for rest so you come up with a system to at least stall the inevitable before a couple of kids come around to throw that system out of wack but it all ends up amounting to nothing. With this in mind, it’s honestly no wonder that a part of Kanon resents the Twisters for what happened, with her Dive on W3D3 bringing up all of these lingering feelings to the surface.

However, Kanon knows that the Twisters realistically wouldn’t know about any of that. How could they, after all? She knows that they’re fundamentally good kids at their core and knows that her feelings towards them aren’t fair so she keeps them buried to focus more on her tasks. She tries to take all of the responsibility upon herself and not let anyone else get caught up in the crossfire but this leads into one of her fatal flaws: her inability to trust in the capabilities of her team.

Throughout the game, it’s made pretty apparent that both the Twisters (Fret in particular) and the Beauties idolize her, with the latter propping her up as their Kween. And to their credit, Kanon IS a genuinely good leader, one worth looking up to. However, with all of those expectations comes a sense of isolation, a feeling that you HAVE to take on all of the burdens because if you don’t, who else will? This is shown when she splits up the Beauties when the threat of the Plague Noise comes around, not trusting their capabilities. However, all this did was leave the Beauties as slim pickings for the Noise, including Kanon herself. This is actually foreshadowed all the way back in Week 1, where she declines potentially recruiting Nagi because she doesn’t want to ruin the dynamic she and the Beauties have going.

This is also a reflection of how Rindo himself initially acts, not wanting recruit more team members because he’s afraid of getting dragged down into failure and having no faith in his or his teammates’ capability to achieve things for themselves. What’s interesting is that Kanon does it because she wants to shoulder the burden/responsibility by herself whereas with Rindo, he does so because he wants to AVOID having to take responsibility for any potential fallout, relying on someone else to do it for him. However, as the game progresses, Rindo gets better about this, learning to let his barriers down, reach out to others more, and trust in himself and his friends’ capabilities.

In fact, when trying to save Kanon, Rindo nearly makes the same mistake as her by asking Fret to split up, but when Fret shows up, Rindo and co. are down to support him. And although they didn’t succeed in saving her, they were able to grant her the opportunity to die as herself and gain valuable information on combining Fret and Nagi’s powers to combat Shibuya Syndrome that helps them out in the following days.

Overall, Kanon is an incredibly interesting character with a lot going on underneath the surface (in a way, she’s basically Fret’s Hanekoma) and I hope that this analysis on her was able to at least shine some light on her various nuances.

#the world ends with you #ntwewy #neo twewy #neo the world ends with you #kanon tachibana #motoi anazawa #fuya kawahara #analysis post #character analysis #twewy

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skunkox · 1 month

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Let's Talk About Turning

Let's go in order of Listeners. If any of the recounted information is incorrect, please let me know.

Bright Eyes:

From retelling from old fans, Bright had literally no say (possibly idea of) the turning till after it was at least in progress.

Lovely:

They were in a life or death situation. They chose to continue living at the cost of losing the power they worked so hard to learn, along with the normalcy of everyday life.

They seem to be taking everything in stride, but I'm worried for them. They seems to be an optimist except for when it comes to their image to others. (That's a post for another day)

Darlin':

Has been given the option to be turned. They still have the option to. But there's 3 things pointing in the no direction. In chatacter wise at least.

Sam still intends to stay with them regardless of how they age. They finally feel their place in the pack. Why lose the original link that made them a part of that family? Last and finally, Sam won't be living an eternal life, regardless if Darlin' wanted to or not with him.

I'm personally a believer that Darlin' wants to keep a mortal life for Sam's sake. Giving him a natural life time line. I hate to think about it, but I think we all see how that's all ending. At least we know that if that's the route Erik has chosen, when shit really his the fan with the meridian, these two are safe. Right? Right.

Treasure:

Let me start off by saying we don't know much about them because their story is quite literally two videos deep so far. What we've seen so far is that Treasure appears to have a dependency or rather a need to do for others. Regardless if they might feel uncomfortable or just not enjoy the sway of their company. Old company we should say.

I think we've mostly come to the agreement that if Treasure hadn't wanted to go off with Porter, they wouldn't have. They were there for their at the time, friends. The night at the club very well could have been the last straw.

All this to say I believe Treasure will be getting turned. Treasure is at the beginning of a break out from their own shell and making choices that benefits themself. There is some level of care and joy between Porter and Treasure. If that grows, wouldn't they want to stay together? If the first person to truly make Treasure happy is gonna live forever, wouldn't they want to too?

There are other ideas of Treasure being a Stealth cause the bitch didn't seem to freak out over Porter being s blood sucking play boy. Erik seems to be leaving empowered reveals of his characters to listener characters to the listeners, for the most part.

There's also the chance Erik could kill off Porter's character. There's a rule of 3 for character stories, it seems. We lost Fred from a listener standpoint and gained Porter. We have 3 wolves. 3 vampires, and 3 d(a)emons that have consistant romantic undertones at the very least. Vega is dead, but he can be brought back. I don't think he's killing Porter off but it's not impossible?

We're at the calm before the storm boys. I swear in the next 4 months, shits gonna get real and all he'll will break loose. Or Aria? Through the meridian. I'm rambling.

But yeah. Totally think that Treasure will get that choice and will be turned.

Again, if my information is wrong, let a bitch know. We gonna suffer through this together.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted bright eyes #redacted lovely #redacted darlin #redacted treasure #redacted porter #redacted vampires

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theresattrpgforthat · 3 months

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Got anything that lets you play as monsters (vampires/monsters/etc) in the modern world in the vein of VTM? Ideally something in the PBTA/FITD area of system, but open to others for sure (: Thanks as always for your recs!!

THEME: Urban Monsters

Friend, the difficulty with this post isn’t that I don’t have recommendations for it - it’s that I’m trying to find recommendations that I haven’t talked about ad nauseam to this point. So I hope you don’t mind a fairly extensive “Past Recommendations” at the bottom of this post, because most of the PbtA games I know of are going to be there. I have limited experience with Vampire: the Masquerade, but I’m a big fan of Changeling: the Lost and other World of Darkness games, so I’m going off of general knowledge rather than specifics.

Bubblegum Vampires / Bubblegum Wizards 2, by Gormengeist.

You're a vampire in an infinite urban cauldron of muck and rot, of psionics and wizards, of danger and shadows. Though you are surely terrible, great, horrifying, (etc.), half the day is an enemy to your people; so set forth through the night to make your coin, secure your dwellings, and vanquish your infinite enemies.

You're a wizard who chews bubblegum and collects trading cards. That is to say, cards with the trapped souls of items and enemies within, obviously. An insignificant wizard in an infinite city has lots to prove and you've got to get help somehow. Break heads, steal money, drive stupid, chew gum, trap souls. Simple as.

Neon-Bright art and d6-based rolls, that’s what’s common across both of these games. This is the same world, but you’re living in two different spheres of it, depending on which game you play. As wizards, you collect spell cards that hold the souls of creatures you’ve vanquished, and use them to get yourself out of sticky situations. As vampires, you accrue vampiric powers through blood sacrifice, and your opponents are usually folks with especially tantalizing veins. Both games have various factions that have different goals than you, so if what you like about Vampire: the Masquerade is the amount of different ideologies that have the ability to fuck you up, you might like this game. Thematically, it looks a little more upbeat and pulpy than your typical V:tM game, but if you like one, you have another game in the same system ready to go.

The Hidden, by Dragons Are Real.

As children our parents read us fairy tales, ghost stories and recounted local myths. We’ve always assumed these stories are told to entertain or scare….what if these aren't just stories….everything you have been told is true.

The creatures from fairy tales, mythology and folklore all exist. Have you ever thought you saw something strange out of the corner of your eye but when you look again all looks normal. These creatures live in plain sight, unseen by the majority of people, only those who know they exist see them in their true form. Every culture has a name for these creatures but we know them simply as The Hidden.

The Hidden is a modern urban fantasy game powered by the Breathless RPG. It is inspired by such media as Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Constantine and The Dresden Files.

Another pulpy sort of game, the Breathless system that powers The Hidden is great for replicating diminishing resources, putting your characters in more and more difficult situations every time they pause to take a breath. This makes this game great for horror-style stories, and World of Darkness games firmly find a home in the horror genre. If you want something that’s fast-paced and can cover a lot of ground in a short session, The Hidden might be for you.

Tween Wolf, by Ibi Deficit Orbis.

Tween Wolf is a micro-RPG about middle schoolers experiencing both the fantasy of being exceptional, and the fear of being humiliated. As these kids come to terms with their awkwardly developing human bodies, they will also be faced with lycanthropy. And in the process they will experience supernatural heroism and intense shame—and learn to manage both.

It is designed to be played with a bent towards exploring the unforgiving social cruelty of middle school, self-image, and dysphoria. It requires one Game Master, 1 to 4 additional players, a few hours, one six sided die for each player, and two additional six sided dice for the table to share.

This is a very short game, with very few rules and a big focus on trying to keep your wild side under wraps. If what you like about WoD games is the struggle between the monstrous and the human, this might be the game for you. There’s not nearly as many big moral quandaries as there are in typical WoD games - you’re middle schoolers, not eons-old bloodsuckers - but to a middle-schooler, your problems are massive. I feel like the movie Seeing Red might be a good touchstone for this game.

Glamour of Our Youth, by Yuri Runnel.

Glamour of Our Youth is a roleplaying game based on the Forged in the Dark system. Drawing inspiration from media like Riverdale, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Chilling Adventures of Sabrina among others, it works to tell stories of supernatural teenage adventures.

Building on the FitD framework, Glamour serves to tell exciting stories with high stakes, putting the youths through their paces as they try to make their way through a strange and hostile world, struggling with conflicts both internal and external, arcane and mundane.

This game doesn’t cast your characters as specific supernatural beings, but the character options certainly make it possible. You cobble your character together from two different halves: Archetypes and Arcana. Your Archetype hails from classic high school cliques, such as Rebel, Outcast, Socialite and Athlete, while your Arcana details your supernatural ability, including Shapeshifter (which might translate to werewolf), Oceancaller (which you could turn into a selkie) or Shadow (which feels rather ghost-like to me). There’s also plenty of ways to play a teenage mage.

This game is in playtest, but it’s considerably far a long, with recent updates that indicate that the crew is hard at work refining the final product.

Protect the Child, by MintRabbit (that’s me!)

Humans have always been protective of their young, sometimes overly so. Humans have also always feared that which might make their young strange or different, and so insist that only humans can raise their own young. Monsters cannot raise human young. This is known. You have a human baby. You cannot find its parents. What is even worse, is that this child has powers, powers that others covet, and so everyone wants it. If you want to prove that you’re not the heartless monster that everyone says you are, that means you’ll have to raise it, at least until you find someone who is better suited to it than you. You are creatures of fur, scales and fangs. You have claws that can rend flesh, faces that can crack mirrors, howls that can cause ears to bleed. And your charge wants a blankie.

Protect the Child is a Forged in the Dark game about monsters caring for a young human, a human who contains strange and mystical powers that make them a valuable asset in any monster crew. The setting and factions present in this game are flexible: you might be aliens in a far-flung future galaxy, fantasy monsters from rival kingdoms, or even everyday wild animals that fear human society.

So I’ve only just started play testing this game, which means that it’s very much in barely-playable mode. This game is also setting-agnostic, meaning that you can decide exactly when and where your game takes place - including as modern-day monsters trying to take care of a human baby with magical powers. The game is very specific in the themes of the story you’ll be telling - that is, themes about monstrosity, parenthood and responsibility, but if you all want to play different kinds of vampires, you can absolutely do that!

BloodLite, by ruan8000.

BloodLite is a role-playing game (RPG) designed to be played solo, but can be played in a group. In this game, you will create a Vampire following the rules and you will also create the world that this vampire interacts with, as well as the conflicts and obstacles that he will face. The world in BloodLite is like ours, but a little darker and more dangerous, full of supernatural creatures.

This game has no ties to PbtA or FitD, but it cites Vampire: the Masquerade as a direct inspiration, and you can see it in the Bloodline options available at character creation. You have a supernatural gift that give you advantages and also trigger your Hunger, which is your character’s thirst for blood. The goals of the game are represented through an Oath track, which fills when you fight enemies, overcome obstacles, and solve problems. This a fairly stripped-down game, but if you’re familiar with V:tM, then you probably won’t have a problem filling the world with factions, back-alley deals, and political wars.

Hearts of Yokai, by Lowell Francis.

So, this game isn’t out yet. But I can’t stop myself from talking about it a little bit. It’s the product of a Changeling:The Lost PbtA hack that Lowell has been working on for a very long time. I’ve been a bit fan of Changeling: the Lost and I also love PbtA games so I’m really excited to see more of this.

The link in the title leads to the current google spreadsheets that detail the current content of the game and the associated playbooks. The link for Lowell is to a blog post he wrote about the game, talking about the history, the changes he’s made, and the ideas behind what the current iteration is. What really intrigues me is how it incorporates "the actions of the Gentry through the lens of colonialism.” I’m really eager to follow the progress of this game.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Urban Shadows 1e, by Magpie Games.

Bite Marks, by Black Armada Games.

Monsterhearts 2e, by Buried Without Ceremony.

Strays, by kumada1.

Eldritch Investigative Drama Rec Post

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #dnd #game recommendations #asks #urban fantasy #monsters #vampires #indie ttrpg

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vendetta-if · 10 months

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I just found your account and couldn't get enough, thank you so much for taking your time to write this masterpieces! I am kind of curious will there be multiple bad ending for each RO's route? Maybe some estimate of how many endings there will be, because I am sure as hell will be trying to get all of them LOL

Also how would the RO's react to MC (post relationship) who got into a comatose state (for maybe a month or more) after protecting them from an attack before finally waking up? How miserable are they before MC wakes up? And how they react when MC finally wake up from their coma? Maybe add papa Victor, uncle Luka, Grandpa, and Yvette too if you can? Thank you so much~~~

Thank you so much for the kind words! 🙏😊 Right now, I’m not too sure on how many variations of the endings there will be since it’s still a while away 🤔

Right now, the “bad endings”—so as to speak—for the 3 ROs will have to do with what future path your MC decides to choose at the end since there will be some paths that Rin, Santana, and Skylar wouldn’t want to follow MC, and they would break up with MC instead.

I’ve touched upon it ages ago and the paths are actually listed in the Character List in the pinned post. Basically, Rin & Santana wouldn’t follow Superhero MC, Skylar wouldn’t follow Criminal Heir MC, meanwhile Ash would follow MC whatever paths they decide in the end.

I’m glad you’re interested in trying out all of the possible endings though! 😁 I think there might be quite a lot of variations of the endings depending mostly on your RO choice and path choice, not to mention some other decisions later on.

As for the second part of your ask, I’ll do for the ROs only this time because the post is getting too long 😅 But feel free to send me the follow-up ask.

I’ll keep the answers under the cut to save some space!

Ash

They’ll be in agony. Just seeing MC in pain or gets hurt is already really painful for them, but MC in a coma… That’s on a whole other level of distress that’s only short of the distress they would feel over MC’s death. But they’re trying to keep that possibility out of their mind…

Not to mention that MC is in this state because of them. They would be filled with such rage and self-loathing, that even after they have decimated the people responsible for hurting MC, they would still be unsatisfied and agitated because they themself is one of them.

They would spend almost all of their time accompanying MC and it’s hard and near impossible to tear them away from MC’s side. They would spend hours recounting both of their countless adventures… Childhood, teenage years, desperately hoping it would somehow help MC wake up.

Once MC wakes up though, they’ll be so relieved that they would probably cry right there and then from all the emotions. They will gush out apologies to MC over and over again for putting them through this while hugging MC as carefully as they can.

Rin

They’ll be nigh inconsolable. They’ll also be tortured from spending day and night repeating the scene over and over in their head—whether voluntary or not—thinking of countless of different scenarios and outcomes from hundreds of different things they could’ve done to prevent this.

While they would still be doing their responsibilities, they would always make sure to visit MC everyday and accompany them, even playing some of their favorite instrumental music as if it can help MC relax and get better quicker.

Their precognition ability, which is usually their greatest asset, has become their greatest enemy. They don’t want to use it. For the first time in their life, the complete uncertainty brings them a semblance of comfort left, giving them hope. They don’t want to know about the probabilities of MC dying or surviving. And everyday, they hope and pray that no visions of MC’s death ever comes to them.

Once MC wakes up, they’d be so relieved and happy. It feels as if a great weight has been lifted from them. They would smile wistfully as they take MC’s hand in theirs gently, rubbing it comfortingly as they speak to MC soothingly before finally getting the doctor to check on MC.

Santana

They’ll be even more depressed and morose, spending almost all of their break and lunch hours to visit MC everyday, talking to them about their day, pretending that MC can hear them.

They probably wouldn’t be able to focus on their job as well. The Chief would be pissed off but they couldn’t care less. Maybe it’d make a good excuse for them to quit.Their already messy life would get even messier.

They’ll also be consumed by guilt because MC gets into this situation to save them. It doesn’t help that Ash, Rin, Luka, and Grandpa would often send them accusatory side-eye whenever they come to visit MC, and honestly, they agree with them. They’ve never understood why MC would so readily sacrifice their safety—and even probably life—for a nobody like them.

Once MC wakes up, they almost can’t believe themself. Their heart is racing as it soars from the relief and happiness. They’ll quickly get a doctor to check on MC and after that, they’ll talk with MC, starting with how much they miss them before chiding them for getting themself in danger for them.

Skylar

The poor superhero is so distressed that for the duration of MC’s coma, the can only smile in front of the camera and they smiles they muster are ones that are clearly strained.

Just like Santana, they couldn’t focus on their superhero job fully as their mind always wanders back to MC in worry even during their shifts. If Skylar is a less important person, the Agency would have berated them harder and probably threaten to cut contract with them, but thankfully, Skylar is far from someone insignificant.

They spend a lot of time everyday visiting and spending time with MC. They’d talk to MC about various things and sometimes, they’d bring some of their books and read their favorite poems to MC—even some of their own that they have always kept to themself. When they don’t feel like talking, they’ll keep themself busy by drawing and sketching MC or the view outside of the window. Anything that will distract them from the encroaching morbid thoughts.

Once MC wakes up, they’d be so happy and relieved, and for the first time in months, they have a genuine big grin on their face and their eyes even water a bit from the overwhelming emotions. They’d probably try to crack a joke, but it would fall short of its mark. So, instead, they would hug MC, thanking them for saving them and telling them to never do that ever again.

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